


(hang on) when the water is rising

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [40]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (well semi-Age of Ultron Compliant), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Established Relationship, Loki's a goddamn mess, M/M, Pietro Maximoff Lives, a fic with a plot, a lot of feelings and some plot but yeah you know, in which Clint and Loki have a conversation, shit begins to get real, the Barton family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5311778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing is ever stable for long but an unexpected killer robot arrives to make a mess of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hahahaha you guys don't even want to know how insecure I am about this fic. Full of excuses like YES I DID NEED TO WRITE SOMETHING BASED ON AGE OF ULTRON, I'M SORRY but there were a lot of important things that I needed to work into this verse moving forward (the Maximoffs! mostly Wanda) and also, you know, I wanted to. Don't hurt me. 
> 
> Insecurity aside, though - I think I'm pretty pleased with how this one came out. 
> 
> And with this installment, I am probably going to wait a little bit on further high drama - I have a number of smaller, more low-key fics I want to write (one about Frigga's first visit to Earth after Loki's exile, one about her visit after Loki's stunt in "Collapse", one about Steve and Loki going on a vacation and things being Just Fine and Dandy) and I think I'm going to try to focus on those (and also those other WIPs of mine, whoops). But don't worry. I have plenty of long term plans left for this verse. Pleeeenty. 
> 
> (I mean, we'll see what ends up happening with Civil War and whether I decide to do anything with that. Because I can already think of some fun things I can do with that.)
> 
> But all of this is not terribly important. Mostly - thank you to my beta [ameliarating](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) who talks me through my insecurities and makes sure all my issues are nailed down, and thanks also to a huge chunk of people on tumblr who support me through continuous angst and whining about how writing is hard. Y'all are great. 
> 
> One further note: I've decided to split this fic into three chapters. The entire fic is complete and I will be posting one chapter a week (on Sundays). Think of it as delayed gratification? :D

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Steve asked, for what must have been the tenth time this evening alone, lingering at the door. “If it were just us, of course, I wouldn’t hesitate, but it’s going to be a little bit of an event. If you were – if you wanted, though, maybe with a glamour or…”

“Captain,” Loki said, mildly but firmly, “as I have told you many times before, you fret too much. I doubt I would find such a function terribly enjoyable. Go. I am not hurt.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Are you _sure?_ You’re not just saying that to…” Loki gave Steve his best bland stare and he trailed off. “All right, all right. Point taken.” He smiled, just a little. “I’ll try not to be late.”

“Do that,” Loki agreed pleasantly. “And please, if Stark embarrasses himself, remember to take photographs for me.”

Steve made a face at him, but Loki could see the twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll tell everyone you said hello,” he said.

 _Perhaps don’t mention it to Barton,_ Loki thought, _I wouldn’t want to ruin his evening,_ but he kept the thought to himself and simply crossed to the door, kissing Steve lightly on the corner of his mouth. “Go,” he said. “Keep standing here looking ravishing in your dress clothes and I may be tempted to make you later than you already are.”

Steve’s ears went a little pink and he shook his head. “I’ll be back before too late, I promise,” he said, and slipped out the door. Loki swallowed back the surge of anxiety that made him want to say _do not promise, the Norns are listening._

He did not say it, retreating back inside and wondering if James would also be spending the evening alone, exiled from the festivities by virtue of his similarly liminal status. Probably, he thought. James was still staying (being kept, a less charitable part of Loki’s mind amended) in Avengers Tower until it could be puzzled out how he could be safely brought back to public life. James did not express displeasure about the arrangement to Loki, but Loki was not at all certain that meant there was none.

After a moment’s consideration, Loki gathered his magic and transported himself to the appropriate room. He managed to duck just in time to avoid getting hit in the face with an object that turned out to be a ball that bounced harmlessly off the wall behind him.

“ _Fucking –_ I’ve told you before not to do that.” James was sprawled on one of the couches, familiar furniture placed just slightly differently. His expression did not look alarmed so much as vaguely disgruntled, his posture conveying as well a kind of unimpressed displeasure with the world at large. Loki thought he had guessed well in coming here. He shrugged, carelessly.

“I was bored.”

“And that means you’re going to bug me, huh?”

“I thought I might.”

“And if I told you to go away?”

Loki shrugged again, keeping a close eye on the vague brittleness he could sense under the surface. “I might consider it. Are you going to?”

James slumped back into the couch and grimaced. “No.”

Loki paced over and settled himself on one of the chairs. “Were you scolded about staying out of sight?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘scolded.’” James’ nose wrinkled, though, in a way that suggested that while he might not say it, he was thinking it. “Nobody has to tell me. I’m not stupid: I’m not inconspicuous and I’m still technically wanted by the US government. And in seven other countries, apparently.” Loki cocked his head, and James gave him a mirthless smile. “I checked.”

“Understanding the reasons does not mean you are not allowed to resent it,” Loki remarked.

“Maybe, maybe not.” The frustration seemed to be fading rapidly into something more morose. “You weren’t invited either, huh?”

“I see your six countries and raise you three realms,” Loki murmured, stretching out his legs. “I could attend in disguise, I suppose, but there comes a time when pretending to be someone else to ease others becomes…tiresome.” Loki considered James for a moment, then added, “as does sulking alone.”

“I don’t sulk,” James said, a little sulkily. Loki raised his eyebrows and James scowled. “Don’t give me that look. I don’t. It’s just…” He trailed off, and sighed. “A reminder, I guess. That’s all.”

A reminder that he did not belong, and might never. A reminder of how his world perceived him. Loki could sympathize, somewhat. “A bitter one,” he said, offering a lopsided smile. “I know.”

James kicked his feet against the couch with a thunk. “Yeah. S’pose you do.”

Comfort had never been Loki’s strong point, and he wondered suddenly if offering his company really _had_ been a good idea, or simply a selfish whim. “I should have brought Váli with me,” he murmured. “He would cheer you up.”

“Yeah,” James said, coughing a laugh. “That’s one word for it. You know he’s going to break his teeth trying to chew on my arm, right?” James stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Since you’re here…” His sidelong look was almost shy. Loki could feel his restless energy and guess what he was driving towards. He spread his hands.

“I am at your disposal.”

“And maybe this time try not to throw me through any walls,” James said, voice a little wry. “That hurts, you know. And I think the noise might get some attention.”

“I’ll do my best to refrain.” Loki stood up. “I trust you know the nearest suitable room?”

James gave him a crooked little smile. “There’s one down the hall.”

* * *

James and Loki did their sparring with unblunted steel, which was one of the main reasons by mutual agreement that they didn’t mention it to Steve. They were careful, or at least careful enough, but Loki was aware that to anyone watching one of their sessions it might well look as though they were sincerely trying to kill each other. Of course it was not without danger, but that was part of what was soothing about it. It had been James’s idea initially – _we worked well together, I don’t want to get rusty, it feels good to move_ – but Loki found that it cleared his head as well, and James’s interest in and curiosity about Loki’s fighting style was…flattering.

The exercise seemed to cleanse them both, and James was visibly in an improved mood as they made their way back to his rooms, brooding on his quasi captivity apparently discarded. Loki found himself slightly relieved, and a little pleased, his own spirits slightly lifted.

The building shook, and from somewhere below them Loki felt a muffled _boom_. James cut off mid-sentence, his whole body tensing. “What the hell was that?”

“Stark’s idea of an exciting party, no doubt,” Loki said dryly, though he felt his heart-rate jump. “JARVIS can confirm, perhaps?” He waited, expecting a response, but none came, and Loki’s stomach clenched. “Computer?”

Nothing. James looked nervy and uncomfortable, metal fingers flexing. Loki did not think he was aware of the gesture. “Maybe it’s just not working,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced, and something was tingling at Loki’s senses, just out of reach. An aftertaste, or an awareness of something that he should have noticed before.

“Something is wrong,” he said, and reached for James’s elbow without asking, transporting them down several floors-

\--into chaos. He stumbled over some metal debris on landing, and the air was full of metal men. He threw up a shield around James as one fired a repulsor blast like one of Stark’s in their direction. Loki summoned a knife and flung it – but though it stabbed into the thing’s eye the machine did not cease functioning.

“Loki!” Thor’s voice cried, Mjolnir smashing one of the things into scrap. James was already moving, shifting into battle though he was only armed with the one knife. Loki scanned the room for Steve, not seeing him.

“Is _this_ what one of your celebrations looks like?” He asked, using a burst of magic to explode one of the machines into fragments. “Perhaps I _should_ have agreed to attend-” He cut off. There were too many, and he needed to focus.

Between the eight of them, however, the fight was turning. Powerful machines they might be, but they were only machines, and crumpled under the onslaught. The quiet that came after was sudden and almost jarring.

“Well,” Barton said dryly. “That was fun.”

“Are you all right?” Steve asked a woman Loki hadn’t noticed and didn’t recognize. She stood, looking shaken, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. Loki noticed the way she glanced between him and James, staring for a moment before looking away, nodding.

“Fine,” she said, quietly. “I’m – fine.”

“What _happened,_ ” James demanded. Loki kicked one of the dismantled machines on the ground, trying to trace that faint tickling at his mind, like a distant but familiar smell. He almost had it. “Weren’t those _yours_?” The latter addressed specifically to Stark, who glanced, oddly enough, toward Banner before answering.

“Know anyone else with a whole bunch of robots?” He said, too deliberately nonchalant. “You got me, felt like things weren’t exciting enough-”

“Tony,” Romanova said, her voice not quite sharp. Her white blouse was stained gray, and there was a black smudge on one of her cheeks. Stark glanced at Banner again, who did not look happy.

“Tony,” he said quietly, “you may as well tell them.”

“Tell us what,” Steve said. His voice was quiet but Loki would not have liked to be the one at whom it was directed. Stark pulled a face.

“We may have been working on something,” he said, carefully nonchalant. “Bruce and I, that is. Little side project. And it _worked,_ ” he added quickly, almost defiantly. “Or – it looks like it, I’ll have to run some tests but-”

“What kind of side project,” Steve interrupted.

“Artificial intelligence,” Banner said quietly.

“A peacekeeping force,” Stark said, somewhat more vehement. “Look, we all know we’re fighting a losing battle here. There are too many threats for us to respond to them all-”

“Stop the sales pitch,” Barton interrupted, his voice rough. “Is this what peacekeeping looks like? And didn’t Hydra try that plan already?” The flavor of magic in the air taunted Loki, teasing him with familiarity. Lingered like an aftertaste both bitter and sweet.

“You did not just compare me to Nazis,” Stark said, sounding honestly angry. “What I’m trying to do is something _proactive._ ”

“What did you use?” Loki asked absently. Several heads swiveled to look at him, but a part of Loki was already half certain – but no. Surely not even Stark was that foolish.

“Use?” Stark’s voice was blank. Loki waved a hand.

“There is a clear gap between what you have hitherto been able to achieve and a new and independent sentience. How did you cross it? By what power…” He trailed off. _Power._ He caught a flash on Banner’s face, alarm quickly masked. Stark’s expression closed and Loki felt the last bit of doubt evaporate. “You found it,” he said, voice toneless.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stark said, too perfectly innocent. Loki felt his right hand curl into a fist.

“Do not toy with me. I knew I recognized something, but it was too faint to…you have been shielding it somehow, since you found it. Did you dig through the rubble seeking it or simply _happen_ to come across it and were unable to resist the temptation?”

“Loki?” He could hear the frown in Thor’s voice. “What do you believe Tony to have found?”

“Oh, he knows,” Loki said coldly. “Perhaps _he_ should tell you what he has been playing with, that he has used to craft his _peacekeeping force._ ” Loki took a stalking step toward Stark and watched him tense even as his expression went stubborn and defiant. “You have _no idea_ what you are meddling with. Did you think it a toy? Something you could pick at and examine like one of your tame machines?”

“What are you talking about?” James asked, and then turned the question on Stark. “What is he talking about?”

“You left it there,” Tony snapped. “Anyone could’ve found it, better me than-”

“ _Better_ you?” Loki barked a harsh laugh. “Ah, yes, for see what you have done, what wonder you have crafted with my scepter-”

“Your scepter?” Romanova said, stiffening, at the same time as Steve said “ _your_ scepter?” Stark drew himself up.

“I may have just _created_ the first instance of genuine artificial intelligence – okay, Bruce helped-”

“Leave me out of this,” Banner murmured. Loki ignored him.

“You have _no idea_ what you have touched,” Loki said, stalking forward until he loomed over Stark. “The kind of power you attempted to manipulate as though it was a toy for your amusement. You know _nothing,_ you are like a child grasping at a sword and startled when it cuts-”

“Loki,” Steve said tensely, and Barton over him said, “yeah, because you were using that thing _so_ responsibly.”

“Enough,” Thor said loudly, his voice cutting through the others, and Loki jerked at how much he sounded like Odin in that one word. “Loki, Tony – will one of you speak plainly?”

Loki sneered, not taking his eyes off of Stark. “Stark has used the power in the scepter-” He narrowly avoided saying _my,_ this time, “-and created an intelligent weapon with its own will.”

Stark’s jaw tightened. “I’m looking _ahead,_ here.”

“I thought SHIELD had that thing,” Barton said. He was nearly humming with tension, not looking at Loki so obviously it was almost worse than if he had stared. He could feel James looking at him as well.

“ _I_ found it lying on the ground in what was left of a Hydra hideout where _someone_ just left it there-”

 _“Buried,_ ” Loki snapped, “where I assumed no one would be _stupid_ enough to pick it up,” but even as he said it he could hear how foolish it sounded, how naïve. He could feel stares on him and hunched his shoulders. “Clearly I should have just kept it-” But that would have been another sort of danger.

“Yeah, because like Clint said, you did so well with it last time,” Stark spat. Rage swelled, hot and sudden, and Loki moved – only to stop as Steve’s hand planted in the middle of his chest, halting his jerk forward as he shouldered between them.

“Stop it,” he said loudly. “This isn’t helping. That thing-”

“Isn’t gone,” Banner said quietly. “It could be anywhere in cyberspace.”

“JARVIS’s containment protocols,” Stark started to say.

“Should have warned us,” Romanova interrupted. Loki watched Stark’s face pale.

“What does it want,” Loki asked, directing the question at Steve. Barton answered, his voice flat.

“Same thing every goddamn supervillain wants: destroy the Avengers. This one says we’re the biggest obstacle to world peace.” Loki thought he might just barely be holding back the words _surprised it’s not you._

“I need to go to the lab,” Stark said abruptly.

“To find this thing you made and stop it, I hope,” Loki said, and Stark wheeled on him.

“What are you even doing here? And talking like you have any kind of authority. You’re not an Avenger, you’re not even a good guy. Back off and get out.”

Loki felt his hackles rise and saw James tense, his nostrils flare, about to come to his defense. Loki’s heart sped up, adrenaline rising. “Loki,” Steve said, his voice low. “Why don’t you and Bucky go upstairs?”

The near order hit him like a punch in the face. Sent away like a child when he knew better than anyone the scepter’s power-

“Steve,” said James lowly. “I should be,” but Steve shook his head very slightly and Loki took a step back, wiping his face clean.

“Understood,” he said coldly. “I hope you will see fit to inform me when there is more information.” He reached for James’s wrist and teleported them both away.

He pulled away from James as soon as they were back in his apartment and strode over to the windows. “Loki,” James said after a moment, then stopped. More quietly, he asked, “how dangerous is this scepter thing, in the wrong hands?”

“Potentially?” Loki said softly. “Very, very dangerous.”

* * *

Steve came up an hour or so later, a smudge of oil or dirt still on his cheek and looking exhausted. “Can you track the scepter?” He asked without pause.

“Possibly,” Loki said after a moment. He volunteered nothing further.

Steve gave him a tired look. “What does that mean?”

Loki pressed his lips together. “Depending on if what Stark used to shield it is still in effect, or if this _intelligence_ of his has another way to mask its power. It is…not subtle.”

Steve nodded. “Do you think you could try?”

“I could,” Loki said, with the slightest emphasis and aware of the stiffness in his voice and body. James groaned from the chair.

“Oh, come on,” he said.

Loki glanced at him, mouth tightening, and amended, “I will see what I can do.”

Steve nodded, then grimaced, sighing. “I’m…sorry. About sending the two of you away like that. I don’t want you to feel…dismissed.” _Is that not what it was?_ Loki thought. _A dismissal?_ But held his tongue and simply nodded. “It’s just –Dr. Cho was there and she had no idea about you _or_ Bucky, and you and Tony looked like you were going to start swinging at each other…”

“Stark was a fool to meddle with what he does not understand,” Loki said sharply.

“Between you and me, I don’t think you’re wrong,” Steve said simply, and Loki blinked, a little surprised. “But telling him so is just going to put his back up. Tony’s not very good at being wrong. But I think he knows he screwed up.”

“He had better,” Loki muttered. James stood up.

“So what now,” he said. “This…thing, robot, it’s not just going to give up, is it? It’ll be back.”

“I expect so. Probably smarter and stronger.” Steve rubbed his forehead. “Tony said he was nowhere near close. That he thought he had something, maybe, but the algorithms weren’t working and nothing should’ve happened, he was just running some simulations in the background.”

“Stark does not understand magic, or even wish to admit it exists,” Loki said dryly. “I am not surprised he is mystified by the fact that it did not work according to his plan.”

Steve gave him a look and Loki subsided, somewhat sullenly. A moment later he sighed. “Look, both of you…”

“You’re exhausted, Steve,” James said. “Go home. All right?”

“I can take you there if you wish,” Loki said. Steve looked at him, for a moment as though he might say something, but then only nodded. He went to James and hugged him, briefly, murmured something that Loki did not try to hear, then let go.

“Farewell, James,” Loki said, keeping his voice mild. “I expect we will speak again soon.”

“Counting on it,” James said, with a lopsided smile. Loki took Steve’s wrist and brought them back to the apartment, stepping away as soon as his feet hit carpet.

“Are you angry at me?” Steve asked. Loki shook his head, sharp and quick, though it was not quite true. A part of him was, selfishly, but he knew it was unjust.

“I am…Stark was right. I should not have left the scepter. I knew it was dangerous but I-” _Did not care. I did not believe I would survive to see it matter, and you were dead._

“I won’t tell Tony you said that,” Steve said, a weak joke that Loki ignored. “You didn’t know this would happen.”

“I might have guessed that something would. Objects of power never stay buried for long.”

“But…” Steve sighed. “All right. You probably shouldn’t have. But there’s no point in obsessing about that now. As long as we can find the scepter we can figure out a way to get it back and deal with this Ultron thing, just like with everything else we’ve faced.” Loki nodded, just barely. He heard Steve draw closer, his hand landing on Loki’s shoulder. “It’s going to be fine.”

Loki felt his mouth twitch, not in a smile. “You should go to sleep. I will begin searching.”

“If you are upset with me,” Steve started, and Loki could hear the frown in his voice. Loki shook his head sharply.

“I am – this thing, Ultron, is it? – it was in Stark’s computers. It overcame his computer. What does it know, I wonder, about me? About me and you?” He made himself swallow. “If it wants to ruin the Avengers…it could spoil your good name easily enough.” Steve was silent. Loki closed his eyes and went on. “A wanted murderer and a war criminal, sheltered by Earth’s greatest heroes. A love affair between a villain and Captain America. A few photographs, or videos, or even just records…”

“That won’t happen,” Steve said staunchly. “He wants – he wants to take us down personally, or he would have done that already. All of us have skeletons in our closets. If he was going to attack us that way…”

“Perhaps,” Loki said quietly. Steve exhaled quietly and stepped closer to him, reaching out, and Loki turned to catch his hand and kiss his fingers, summoning a smile. “I am not upset with you.” And he wasn’t, at least – not exactly. Not for anything that was fair. “You need your rest.”

“And you don’t?” Steve reached for him, placed his hands one on each of Loki’s shoulders and turned him, meeting his eyes levelly. Loki grimaced.

“The scepter-”

“Will take time to find, and you’re not the only one looking.” Steve’s lips quirked at one corner, wryly. “I’ll sleep better with you next to me.”

It was a low blow, Loki thought, but it worked. He sighed and detached Steve’s hands. “Oh, very well,” he said, giving Steve a wry smile of his own. “You have grown devious, Captain.”

“I’ve always been devious,” Steve said, but his smile warmed. Loki tried to relax. _It’ll be fine,_ he told himself. _The Avengers have fought worse foes._

Just the same, it was difficult to ignore the feeling of foreboding prickling between his shoulder blades, like a knife poised above his back, on the verge of flashing down.

* * *

Loki slept restlessly; every few hours he woke with a start to some small sound his mind registered as a threat. He did not notice Steve stirring more than usual, but when he woke in the morning he still looked bleary-eyed and exhausted, and yawned wide enough to crack his jaw. He groped for his phone and checked it, only to shake his head.

“No news,” he said. “After he left the tower Tony says he…it…dropped out of sight. Covering its tracks. He says his tracing isn’t tracking down the scepter, either, so either it’s shielded or...”

Loki nodded, fractionally. “I will see if I can do better.”

“And I…” Steve grimaced, making a face. “Will just sit here feeling useless, I guess.”

“You could go back to sleep,” Loki proposed, noting the worrying circles under Steve’s eyes. “You do not look rested.”

“I’ll be fine,” Steve said staunchly. Loki just looked at him, and Steve sighed. “I _will._ Don’t look at me like that.”

“You still sleep poorly,” Loki said, his voice quiet. “Since your captivity.”

“I sleep enough.” Steve’s voice was not quite sharp, but it was plain he didn’t want to discuss it further. Loki wished he knew the best way to push, but he’d been given a task. He backed off, for the moment.

“Very well. As for the other matter at hand...” Loki stretched. “It would help if I could see where the scepter was being kept, prior to its theft.”

Steve grimaced. “Tony’s not going to love that idea.”

“I do not need Stark to like it,” Loki said flatly. “Especially considering that without his recklessness-”

“Loki,” Steve interrupted, his voice a little reproachful. Loki pressed his lips together, feeling his nostrils flare, and Steve sighed out. “You’re…you seem to be taking this a little personally.”

“Tell me I am wrong, then,” Loki said, his voice a little brittle. “Tell me I am mistaken to upbraid your friend for his hubris.”

Steve squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. “Is it possible you’re taking out some of your frustration with yourself on him?” He said, after a moment. Which was not an answer, and Loki _knew_ Steve would never speak poorly of his friends (not to him, anyway, and something about that thought ached) but it still felt like a dismissal.

“Whatever my _frustrations,_ ” Loki said after a moment, in his own non-answer, “the fact remains that I will need access if you wish my help in tracking the scepter wherever this creature has taken it.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, and then sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Loki paused. “One…other matter. When you find out where he has gone, I intend to go with you.”

Steve fell still. “I’m not sure if that’s-”

“I am not necessarily requesting,” Loki said, keeping his voice level. “I know the scepter as a weapon better than any other on this realm.” Steve looked dubious, and Loki glanced away. “If that is not enough – if you intend to throw yourself into danger I would prefer to be there to ensure said danger does not kill you.”

He’d hit the right mark and he knew it, though he felt a pang for the way Steve flinched. Guilt, he thought. Misplaced, but a cynical part of him could not deny it was useful. “I can’t promise anything,” he said. “Not everyone’s going to like that idea, either.”

“Diplomatic,” Loki said, lips curling wryly at one corner. “Almost none of them will like it. But that is of no particular concern to me in this particular matter. Mostly I wished to inform you so that you do not attempt to argue with me about it later.”

Steve made a sort of huffing noise, not really a laugh. “That’s…blunt of you.” Loki gave Steve a faint smile, and Steve shook his head. “I’ll go ask Tony about seeing the scepter.” He hesitated, and then said, “it’s going to be fine. You know we’ve fought worse.”

Loki’s entrails twisted uneasily. “Do you say that intending to tempt fate to take notice of your relatively good fortune?”

“No,” Steve said, standing up and leaning down to Loki lightly. “I say it to make you worry less.”

“Unlikely,” Loki said, trying for lightness and falling somewhat short.

“Yeah,” Steve said, almost gently. “I know. But it seems worth a try.”

“We shall see,” Loki said, and watched Steve go, wondering if it was merely the involvement of the scepter that had him so on edge, or if there was something else, something more than paranoia.

He pushed his unease down and away, standing and running his hands through his hair before heading for the shower, hoping a dash of cold water would clear his head. He would need his focus for this – and even he was not certain if by ‘this’ he meant the search itself, or dealing with Steve’s friends. Both, perhaps. The latter maybe even more than the former.

* * *

Stark hovered nearby, arms crossed and glowering, as Loki inspected the laboratory where it seemed the scepter had been kept. The containment structure he had used was impressive, he had to admit with some grudging respect – a combination of metals through which a current ran. It felt vaguely familiar, and when Loki realized why he jerked slightly, wondering if Stark had devised it independently or borrowed from the wreckage left after Thor had finished dealing with Doom. He did not ask.

“Was this for my benefit alone?” He did ask.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Stark said, a little sharply. “I didn’t want anyone to know about that thing being here other than me and Bruce. And JARVIS, I guess.” Something flashed across his face, briefly, like pain. Loki didn’t pry at it.

“And when this creature came to life…”

“Must’ve disengaged the safeties after hacking JARVIS’s systems. Then he could just lift it right out and stroll off with it. So to speak.”

Loki made a harsh laugh in the back of his throat. “Such security.”

Stark opened his mouth and Steve stepped smoothly in. “All right,” he said. “Regardless of how Ultron got it – what about where it is now?”

“Give me a moment.” Loki reached out to touch the cradle that had lately held his weapon and closed his eyes, letting his senses be flooded with the intoxicating, familiar feeling of its power, unlike anything else he’d ever touched.

Then he sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and reached out, seeking the resonance created by the passage of such power, like an aftertaste or the lingering scent of perfume. “What are you doing?” Stark asked, voice a mixture of accusatory and curious. “How does this even work-”

“Hush,” Loki said. “If you cannot be quiet you can leave.”

“This is _my_ lab-”

“Tony,” Steve said quietly, and Stark fell silent. Loki let the immediate world recede from him, focusing instead on the one existing alongside it, the interwoven threads of energy that were everything. The way they bent away from the container that had lately held the scepter made Loki vaguely nauseous, but he did not need to focus on that.

Even the aftertaste of the scepter’s power made something in Loki ache, remembering the euphoria of holding it, the sweet rush of magic filling him until he was giddy with it, his own still at low ebb from the fall through the Void. He pushed the memory away and focused on feeling his way outward, letting the remnants of his link with the weapon and the feeling of its magic pull him forward, like scrying but more…visceral.

“Show me a map,” Loki said, his eyes closed, holding the location in his mind. Stark pulled up a virtual image of the world and Loki stabbed a finger at it. “There.”

Steve blinked. “Sokovia? Why Sokovia? What’s there?”

“Other than widespread political unrest that’s only gotten worse since-” Steve glanced at Loki, and seemed to check himself. “—the situation in Latveria collapsed?” Loki felt himself tense, his shoulders coming up.

“You mean since Doom was killed,” Loki said coldly, though he felt an odd pang in his chest. Killed for his sake, and now a nation of people across the world whose only mistake was serving a madman was suffering. He pushed the feeling away: there was nothing to be done, or nothing _he_ could do.

“Yeah,” Stark said after a moment. “That. Turns out killing the dictator of an already politically unstable country doesn’t make for the best conditions.”

“But what’s he looking for there?” Steve asked. “Is he recruiting an army?”

“Beats me.”

“Perhaps he is merely looking for a quiet place to plan,” Loki said, frowning.

“And he needs the scepter for…?” Stark asked. Loki shook his head, after a moment.

“I am not certain.” Something was nagging at him about the scepter, on the edge of memory, that he couldn’t quite grasp. Stark snorted.

“You? Not certain? I thought you knew _everything_ about it. _Surely_ you’d know what Ultron would want, one evil mastermind to another-”

“Tony,” Steve said, a warning in his voice. Loki felt himself tense, jaw tightening, and held his temper.

“I can think of any number of reasons he would desire a powerful magical artifact,” he said flatly. “Perhaps some of the same _you_ did.” Stark’s mouth opened, and Loki turned his back pointedly. “If there is nothing further to be done, perhaps you should charter your plane. I imagine it would be best to leave sooner rather than later.”

“You say that like you’re coming with us,” Stark said suspiciously. “You’re not, are you?”  Loki said nothing, moving toward the door. “He’s not, is he?”

“We’ll talk about it,” Steve said, sounding tired.

“That doesn’t sound like a ‘no, Tony, of course he’s not coming’ to me,” Stark said.

“You could not leave me behind if you tried,” Loki said, just to remind him – them both – that he was still there, and then left, closing the door perhaps a little too hard behind him.

* * *

He went to James to inform him of the situation, doubting that anyone else would have bothered. Wilson was there when he arrived, the two of them talking quietly only to stop the moment he stepped through the door, which had been left open.

“Am I interrupting?” He asked carefully. Wilson frowned, but then shook his head.

“Nah, I think we’re good. We’re good?”

James nodded, though it looked a little jerky and he was not looking at either Loki or Wilson. “Fine.” Loki felt his hackles rise.

“Anything I should know?” He directed that question to Wilson with just a touch of an edge. Wilson raised his eyebrows, apparently unimpressed.

“If you need to know someone’ll tell you,” he said mildly. “See you later, Barnes,” he added, and headed for the door. Loki stepped out of the way to let him pass, and closed the door behind him.

“James?” He asked carefully. James seemed to shake himself and looked up with a crooked smile.

“Loki.”

“I thought I would come by to inform you that the scepter has been located,” Loki said, scrutinizing James closely. “I expect we will be leaving before long for Sokovia.”

“You will,” James said, glancing down. Loki blinked, frowning, and James grimaced. “ _You_ might be going. I won’t. Can’t.”

Loki fell still. “Beg pardon?”

James glanced away. “It’s not…it’s just a bad idea.”

“Is this what Wilson was talking to you about?” Loki asked, feeling his eyes narrow. “Because I can-”

“Are you going to offer to smuggle me along with you?” James said, a trace of irony in his voice. “Thanks, but no thanks. Sam was just talking about…my options.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m still…on probation, more or less. If I ever want to be able to leave this Tower without sneaking out – let alone do anything else – I need to be careful. Toe the line. Especially after…what happened with Hydra. And that means I have to sit this one out.”

Loki rocked back on his heels, feeling a sudden pang. “Ah.” He had not considered – or rather, had not _asked_ – about consequences James might be suffering on account of their…adventure. And another part of him thought _of course, because freedom is a possibility for you._ He pushed the bitterness of that thought away. “I could-”

“Loki,” James said, quiet but firm. “It’s fine.” Loki gave him a sidelong, dubious look, and James raised his eyebrows. “Honestly. You’ll be going, right?”

“Whether they like it or not,” Loki said firmly. James gave him a crooked smile.

“That makes me feel better about staying behind.” He rolled his shoulders back. “It’ll be fine.” He sounded just a little like he was trying to convince himself. Perhaps not so certain as he wanted to be. Loki summoned a smile, haughty and arrogant.

“Of course it will. I doubt there will even be anything for you to miss.” Though the lingering disquiet in his gut warned otherwise. Loki hoped that he was wrong.

There was a knock on the door. Both of them turned toward it, and after a moment James called, “yeah?”

“It’s me,” said Steve’s voice. For a moment Loki considered leaving, but James’s glance in his direction made him stay.

“Door’s open. Loki’s here,” James said. Steve stepped inside, looking back and forth between them for a moment. “He already updated me on the situation,” James said, gesturing at Loki. “Sokovia, huh?”

“Actually…” Steve gave Loki a quick look. “We think Ultron himself might be in Wakanda.”

Loki felt his eyebrows shoot up. “Oh?” _Were you planning on telling me this,_ he didn’t quite make himself ask.

“An alert pinged about a minute after you left,” Steve said. “Some smuggler T’Challa caught up with a while ago…Klaue, or something, buying up large quantities of vibranium.” Loki frowned, not seeing the connection until Steve added, “the bots Tony was making used vibranium, and those weren’t very durable. If Ultron’s trying to upgrade…”

“Then he’d need more material,” James finished. “So…Wakanda.”

Steve nodded. “And T’Challa’s not answering our calls. If we don’t want to lose our window…we’d better go now.”

Loki took a step forward. “By all means,” he said smoothly. “ _We’d_ better.” Steve looked at him and then James, his expression somewhere between helpless and frustrated. Loki lifted his chin. “Shall I tell your friends that I can either join you on the plane or meet you on the ground in Wakanda?”

Steve looked pained, but a moment later he deflated slightly, though then his eyes shifted to James. “And are you…?”

“Nah,” James said. “Sam and I will hold down the fort here.”

Steve looked back at Loki, mouth tugging unhappily at one corner. “They’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t need them to like it,” Loki said. “I do not even, truly, need them to agree. I told you already that this is not a discussion.”

Steve looked torn between frustration and resignation, and cast James a look like he was hoping for aid. James just shrugged. “If you think I’m going to try to talk him out of it…first of all, I don’t think I’d have a better chance than you. Second, I can’t really say I disagree with the premise that you need an extra set of eyes on you.”

“I have five other teammates,” Steve said.

“I don’t know them,” James said with a shrug. “I trust Loki.”

“I’m touched,” Loki said dryly, but he felt a peculiar warmth in his chest. Steve sighed.

“I feel a little like I’m being tag-teamed, here,” he said. “Did you two plan this?”

“No,” Loki said, at the same time as James’s, “didn’t need to, honestly.” Steve sighed and shook his head a little.

“Well…come with me, I guess,” he said to Loki. “Bucky…”

“I’ll be careful if you are,” James said. Steve huffed but stepped forward and embraced him before stepping back and turning toward the door. Loki paused a moment, and after a brief pause extended a hand to James, who gave him an odd look before taking it. “You be careful too.”

“I am never anything but,” Loki said with a glib smile James did not return. He let the smile fade. “I will.”

“If it comes down to you or Steve,” James said, after a breath of a moment, “throw Barton under the bus and run, right?”

Loki let out a bark of a laugh and gave James a crooked grin before releasing him. “Duly noted.” He turned toward Steve, drawing himself up. “Shall we?” Steve looked like he wasn’t sure whether to shake his head or smile, and ended up doing a little of both.

“Come on,” Steve said finally. “And try to let _me_ do the talking, all right?”

* * *

Loki let Steve do the talking. Mostly.

He stood back and kept his expression bland while Steve attempted to argue with his teammates, his arms crossed. Thor glanced at him and gave him a reassuring smile that Loki ignored, and he could feel Romanova examining him, which he also ignored. Barton glared in his direction for the whole time, which Loki ignored until he grew tired of tolerating the prickle it gave him on the back of his neck, whereupon he turned his head just enough to look directly at Barton. He raised his eyebrows and made his lips curve in a mocking smile. Barton’s glower intensified but he looked away.

“He comes along and I’m as likely to put an arrow in his neck as Ultron’s,” Barton interrupted. Thor stiffened like he wanted to come to Loki’s defense.

“Assuming Ultron has a neck,” Stark said, without disagreeing. Loki could see the expression on Steve’s face – a mixture of exasperation, frustration, and discomfort – and felt briefly guilty for putting him in this position.

“I believe the Captain has given you a mistaken impression that this is a choice _he_ is making,” Loki said coolly, keeping his voice quiet. “I doubt, in truth, he is any more pleased about it than you are. I am not, however, going to change my mind, and I am not going to be left behind. Fear not – I shall refrain from claiming all of the glory of your assured victory.” He let his voice nearly drip with irony, and thought he saw Banner’s expression twitch, possibly like he wanted to smile. Thor looked like he was torn between amusement and chiding.

Stark narrowed his eyes. “I _could_ just lock you down.”

Loki bared his teeth, not bothering to make it look like a smile. “You could try.”

“Boys,” said Romanova, surprisingly mildly. “We’re wasting time on this pissing contest.” Her gaze on him was level and unimpressed. “You come, you make yourself useful. Don’t get in our way and no grandstanding.”

Loki smoothed his face so his surprise didn’t show and sketched a shallow bow. “As my lady wishes.” She gave him a hard look and Loki felt just the faintest twinge of embarrassment. “I am perfectly capable of minding myself,” he added, rather more mildly.

“Glad to hear it.” She turned back to the others. “So. We done, or do you want to keep bickering?”

Stark’s nose wrinkled. “Great, sure. It’ll be a party. Invite all the ex-supervillains, we’ve got at least two floating around-”

Steve threw Stark a hard look even as Loki felt his hackles rise. Banner stood up hastily. “Right!” He said, a little too loudly. “So. Getting on the plane, then?” And that was that, or near enough.  Loki decided to be merciful and kept his distance, and his silence, through the preparations of the others, keeping to himself as he summoned his leathers and armor and checked his knives. Thor approached him almost sidelong.

“Whatever the opinion of the others,” he said lowly, after several moments of silence in which Loki could feel that Thor was waiting for him to speak first, “I am…grateful for your presence.”

Loki paused in honing a slightly dulled edge and did not quite look up at his brother. “Oh?”

He could hear Thor’s frown. “You sound surprised.”

“Mm,” Loki said noncommittally. He heard Thor huff quietly.

“You think…no, I will not try to guess. Suffice to say that I know your strength well, and your ability in battle, and I…anticipate the chance to fight beside you again.”

Loki kept carefully still and took a slow breath, not sure how to react to the deep warmth those simple words aroused in him. _Ah, Thor,_ he thought, and was almost tempted to remind him that it was not _him_ he was coming for. But that would be…needlessly cruel. Thor had done nothing to deserve it. He looked up, letting his lips quirk. “That is kind of you to say, though a touch surprising.”

Thor made a face. “That I did not always _admit_ it does not mean I did not – _do_ not – respect your skill.” The warmth intensified and Loki blinked at Thor, not quite managing to summon a response. Words he had craved for a long time, even since their tentative bridges built, and just like Thor to give them so easily.

Thor smiled warmly and squeezed Loki’s shoulder before striding over to Barton, leaving Loki frowning after him.

Steve paused briefly, once, to touch Loki’s arm and give him a quick, small smile, but he was occupied with his preparations – and, Loki thought with another slight twinge of guilt, attempting to compensate for Loki’s unwelcome presence. Stark ignored him so obviously it was clearly pointed, while Barton appeared to be trying to do the same without quite managing to keep from shooting periodic dark looks in Loki’s direction.

At some point, Loki thought a little wearily, he would probably have to deal with that. If there was a way of dealing with it. What he had done to Barton was…not a small thing.

Loki took a seat near the back of the plane when they boarded and leaned back, closing his eyes. To his surprise, he heard someone settle down beside him. Steve. Apparently Loki did not mask his surprise well enough, because Steve’s small smile was almost pained.

“You all right?” He asked, lowly enough that it would not be overheard except by a determined eavesdropper.

“Why should I not be?” Loki asked lightly. Steve gave him a look and Loki exhaled. “I am fine.” _I am used to the sensation of being unwelcome._

Steve’s hand found his and squeezed. “I’m glad you’ll have my back,” he said, sounding sincere.

“Even though your friends resent my presence?” Loki found himself saying, though only after casting a quick shield to muffle their voices from listeners. Steve’s smile turned a little sad.

“Sure, maybe we could’ve eased them into it. And I wish that they didn’t.” He did not, Loki noticed, deny that they had reason. Probably for the best: it would have been too blatant a lie. “That doesn’t mean _I_ don’t appreciate knowing you’re there. Watching out for me.” He took a deep breath. “But…it won’t be just me, right?”

“Oh, I suppose I can spare a thought or two for Thor,” Loki said lightly. Steve gave him a look, and Loki relented. “I will not allow your friends to come to harm if I can prevent it.” _Though,_ he did not add, _I doubt they would extend the same courtesy to me._

“Thank you.” Steve leaned in and kissed the corner of Loki’s mouth, smiling very slightly. “Not that I doubted it.” He slid an arm around Loki’s waist and Loki felt a peculiar rush of relief that Steve was not shying away from him, was not pretending in the sight of others. “And maybe it’ll show them that you’re not someone they need to be scared of.”

Loki let the working muffling their voices fall away. “I think you may be overly optimistic in seeking such a concession, my Captain,” he murmured dryly. Steve shook his head a little but didn’t argue, and Loki’s heart felt just a little eased.

* * *

Loki half expected that they would be attacked the moment they disembarked on Wakandan soil, but in truth it was anticlimactic. All seemed perfectly peaceful. “Call me if you need me,” Banner said, not moving to get up, and Loki frowned, halfway to questioning the wisdom of leaving one of their strongest warriors behind, before he stopped. They would not appreciate his challenging their ways, and it was not as though he was not somewhat relieved to avoid encountering Banner’s greener half.

“Hope we don’t,” Barton said, half smiling, though it died when his eyes drifted across Loki. He stifled the part of him that wanted to prod at his former hawkling. It was born of a childish impulse, he knew, a need to be _seen_ when he was acutely aware of how much he was an outsider among these people.

“This is too easy,” Romanova murmured as they moved away from the plane toward an old warehouse. “All of this…”

“Yeah,” Stark agreed easily. “It’s probably a trap. But we’ve walked into _loads_ of traps, and _I’d_ rather cut Ultron off before he blooms into a beautiful vibranium flower.”

“Everybody just focus,” Steve said, and Loki heard the shift in his intonation, the way he slid slightly sideways into his role. “And keep your eyes open. Loki, can you tell us anything about what’s inside?” Loki blinked, and he thought he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, but he only let it last a moment.

“Very little,” he said. “Given time and still water I could scry, but-“ He reached out nonetheless, thinking of the scepter. If there was some echo of it here-

He felt…something, like fingers prickling down his spine. Not the scepter, but something else. A feeling he had not expected, and which brought him up short. He jerked his questing magic back, wondering if he had been noticed, and stopped in his tracks. Steve’s step checked and he looked back. “What? What is it?”

“There is a magic user here,” Loki said. _Doom,_ his thoughts whispered, and his breath caught, but no – the feeling was wrong. Entirely unfamiliar – not someone he’d met before. He heard Barton groan.

“Oh, great,” he said.

“Can you tell anything else?” Steve’s voice wasn’t quite sharp, but it was almost a command. In other circumstances Loki might have teased him about it. “Just one, or possibly more? And where, how close?”

Loki shook his head. “Not far. I believe just one, but I cannot be certain. If I try to learn more I may risk revealing myself and by extension you.” He flexed his right hand, once. “I am not…familiar with the signature. But given that they have not made themselves known…I doubt they can have much power.”

Natasha’s eyebrows rose. “Or they have enough to stay off the radar entirely.”

Loki did not like that thought, but he made himself nod. “That is another possibility.”

“It is lucky, is it not, that we have a mage of our own?” Thor said, perhaps a little too loudly. Loki stifled his urge to smile, almost relieved that Thor was willing to express what he could not.

“So, what does this change?” Barton asked bluntly. “Anything?”

“Not for you,” Loki said. “But I thought perhaps you might wish to be aware of at least one factor you might not have expected. It would seem that Ultron may have acquired allies of its own. Shall we?” He did not let himself appear troubled, but he checked his mental walls again, reinforcing them. As their band resumed motion, Steve fell back and spoke quietly.

“I’d like you to stay back and stay unseen,” he said. “Check the perimeter. If you run into this magic user – don’t engage if you don’t have to. And if you’re not sure you can handle it…”

Loki cocked an eyebrow. “I have fought one or two battles, my Captain.”

Steve flushed. “I know. I also know that sometimes you assume you have to do things on your own when you don’t. We’ll back you up if you need it.”

Loki inclined his head and let himself draw back, drawing on his magic to weave a working suggesting he remain unseen. Steve’s eyes skated away from him and then pulled back, and then he looked away. “Be careful,” Loki said. “I will not go far.”

Steve nodded. Loki slipped after the others into the warehouse, but then let them go ahead, vaulting up a level and scanning the rafters, picking out the places that he might hide, were he planning an ambush. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the relative gloom, and he kept half an eye on the Avengers – on Steve.

Ultron emerged and Loki observed that it appeared to have constructed itself a new body. He only half listened to its taunts, keeping his magic close at hand, ready, waiting.

“This is ridiculous,” Loki heard Barton say, and then he had his bow to hand and an arrow flying.

It never struck Ultron. Loki saw – a blur, and then a man was standing on the bridge between Ultron and the Avengers, Barton’s arrow in his hand and grinning. _Magic,_ Loki thought briefly, but no, just speed. On the other end of the bridge, though, fading out of the shadows – and he should have seen her, should have noticed her presence – a slip of a woman, but the moment Loki saw her he knew.

“Witch,” he breathed, and moved, a knife coming to hand. Something slammed into him and he hit the ground hard, only just managing to turn it into a roll that brought him up to a crouch.

The strange man, his hair a peculiar grey but not with age, sneered at him, Loki’s knife in his hand. “You think I didn’t see you lurking in the shadows? My sister is sneakier than you.”

“Your sister,” Loki said. “Interesting.” He could hear the sounds of battle. He did not have time for this, needed to be watching _Steve._ He bared his teeth.“I don’t need to be _sneaky_ to rip your heart out.” He summoned another knife and flung it, but the man was already gone. Loki scowled, looking for the witch. She was more dangerous than either Ultron or her brother, and he best equipped to manage her.

He could not see her, however, and his carefully questing threads of magic acted…strangely. Bending and twisting away from him and away from their intended purpose, as though there was something in the air. The witch’s doing? Surely not – no half-trained hex-witch should be able to muddle _his_ workings.

He heard a shout of alarm and looked down in time to see the speedster try to grab Mjolnir, and felt his lips curve in a smile. But Steve – where was Steve? He had slipped out of Loki’s sight when he had been distracted, and Loki felt a sudden flutter of fear. He needed to go-

A soft step behind him, and Loki felt himself coil tight. Not Ultron, and he could see the strange, quick man still wrestling with Mjolnir. He doubted any of the Avengers would be foolish enough to sneak up on him in a battle. So that left the witch. Loki kept his back to her, feigning lack of awareness. As soon as she was close enough…he summoned a knife, holding it loosely, relaxed at his side and turned up against his wrist, hidden.

Loki felt the tendrils of her magic brush against his mind like water: soft, _fragile_. He began to turn, almost scoffing, but between one breath and the next the tendrils were seeping through his barriers, expanding like roots and cracking the walls that protected his mind, _pushing_ into him. Loki’s vision doubled and his fingers spasmed, the blade falling from his hand as he focused on fighting back on another front; he could feel the witch’s magic, coiling through his thoughts, twisting and bending and at the same time-

_Darkness, all around, nothingness so profound that it bled into him and he could not feel his body anymore, his thoughts spinning and fractured-_

Blink and it was the warehouse again. He staggered, reaching for his magic, but he wasn’t standing there at all, he was on a shattered piece of rock on his knees as Thanos rifled through his mind, _you have no secrets from me. I pulled you from the Void, Laufeyson, are you not mine?_ and he was fighting not to scream with the agony of it, of his mind cracked open like an egg, flayed raw and laid out for perusal.

His magic lashed out unseeing, mental defenses kicking in too late. Thanos fractured and became the Other, the scepter in Loki’s hands but he was powerless, always powerless, and he could see the creature’s contempt. Another flicker and he was on his back, chest split open and Doom looking down at him, one hand sliding into his chest to cradle his heart-

Someone was screaming. He wasn’t sure if it was him or not. Loki thrashed, or tried, but it was hard to tell if his body moved. His stomach roiled and he could feel his magic trying to push the intruder out, _get out,_ for a moment he could feel the witch’s horror and surprise as she tried to tug free of the traps in his mind, as the darkness in his memory pulled her in and down-

And then they were severed, and Loki was drowning, no – he was holding his scepter but the blade was red, the blade was red and Steve was looking at him with eyes full of surprise and pain, gasping. “Loki,” he said thickly, through a froth of red bubbles, and Loki realized that he had stabbed Steve through the heart. _Well done,_ said Thanos, his voice a vibration in Loki’s bones – but it sounded like Odin, too. _You can be finished now, Loki. Is that not what you wanted?_

Steve’s body spasmed as he died and Loki could feel tears streaming down his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Week two! And ahhhh you guys' response to this thing has been so delightful and so very heartening to my insecure self. I hope you enjoy this second chapter as much as the first. (There are a lot of feelings? A lot of feelings.)
> 
> For once I don't actually have a lot to say. Enjoy!

When Loki could move again, Ultron and his human pets were gone. Loki staggered to his feet and vomited over a railing. When he straightened Barton was looking at him.

“How does it feel,” his former thrall said flatly, voice hard. Loki fought down another wave of nausea and looked around for the others. Turning his head made it spin, and there was a throbbing headache in his temples, a casualty of his shredded defenses. He said nothing, as there was no answer to be made, and no point in saying that there was no comparing what he had done to…this. No doubt Barton would feel the statement disingenuous.

_You can be finished now, Loki. Is that not what you wanted?_ Thanos’s voice echoed in Loki’s mind and he swayed, heart starting to race and panic clawing up his throat. “Are you all right?” Barton’s voice sounded very far away, the words forced and strained. Loki remembered with some small bitterness the way Barton had cared for him in the first days after his arrival, ensuring that he ate, that he slept.

“Fine,” Loki forced out, pushing the thought aside. _Steve,_ he remembered, and felt another wave of fear. Had the witch found him too? “Where are – where is the witch, her brother?”

“Gone,” Barton said. He had come a little closer, expression wary and something else Loki could not quite pin down. “I took her out and he picked her up and bolted. It’s over.”

_Over,_ Loki thought, and wanted to laugh, knowing it would be hysterical. _No. No it isn’t. You don’t know, you don’t know what is out there, what is waiting for you. He will come for you and for me and everyone is going to die—_

He grabbed onto the railing, fighting to fill his lungs. He could not seem to draw enough air. “Hey,” Barton said roughly. “Snap out of it. We need to get out of here before the authorities arrest all of us.”

“The others,” Loki said, meaning _Steve_ mostly, but also – Thor. Oh, Norns. It was good, he thought suddenly, that James had been left behind. Having his mind violated like this again – and that brought him to Romanov and he thought he understood the fear in Barton’s eyes a little better.

“Already out,” Barton said. “In about the same shape as you are, apparently.”

Loki could read between the lines: Barton was the only one left unharmed and still standing. Likely he had seen to the others first, and left Loki for last. He could see the next words in Barton’s eyes, when he made himself meet them – _can’t take your own medicine?_ – and was pathetically grateful that he did not speak them aloud.

“Can you walk?” The question sounded grudging. Loki made himself nod though in truth he had little faith in his legs. He made himself release his death grip on the railing and step forward, focusing on making himself walk. He could feel Barton’s eyes and did not meet them again. “Whatever she saw in your head did a number on her,” he said, as they moved forward at a crawling pace. Loki tried not to shudder at the knowledge that the witch _knew_ things about him now that he had told no one. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised about that.” Barton’s sardonic voice only shook slightly.

Loki wanted to laugh. “She did not manage to…to you.” It was not a question.

“No,” Barton said after a moment. “Been there, done that.”

Loki could not keep himself from laughing, then, a mirthless little half hysterical sound. “If she had tried she would have found it harder than the rest.” Barton’s head snapped around, eyes narrowing. “Insurance,” Loki said, smiling without humor. “From…to keep others from turning you against me. Ironic, isn’t it?”

He could feel Barton staring at him and did not look to see what expression was on his face. Made himself simply keep moving, keeping the panic at bay by his fingernails.

They emerged into the sun – the sun, still shining, and Loki squinted against it. There was a plume of smoke on the horizon and Loki paused, staring at it. “She got to Bruce,” Barton said plainly, and Loki felt his whole body seize up. Barton’s mouth twisted in a facsimile of a smile. “Don’t worry. He wasn’t looking for _you,_ and Tony took care of it _._ ” Loki pulled his eyes away and looked toward the plane. Steve was standing on the ramp, and Loki couldn’t make out his expression. He trailed after Barton.

“Loki,” Steve said, as they approached. He looked…shaken, but Loki was relieved to see he seemed hale enough. “Are you-”

“Fine,” Loki said. His voice came out in a hoarse near croak. “I am fine.” Steve, to his surprise, didn’t push, and Loki wavered between relief and worry. Barton marched up into the plane without pause. After a moment, Loki stepped up and reached for Steve, fingers brushing his arm (warm, living). He still felt like he was reeling. “And you…”

“I’m okay.” Steve gave him a wan smile. “Better than…” He stopped, and glanced over his shoulder. Loki felt a cold pit in his stomach. _Useless. Worse than useless._

“I should have stopped her,” Loki said. “I should have killed her-”

“Loki,” Steve said, and then shook his head. “Come on. We need to get out of here.” _It’s not your fault,_ Loki had wanted him to say, and only realized it when Steve didn’t. His stomach felt like it was in knots, but he followed Steve without speaking, fear still squeezing him in its grip. He felt dizzy, faintly detached.

The bay almost stank of misery. Thor stood by himself, his head bowed and expression dark, and Loki felt nausea rise up the back of his throat knowing that he’d been touched too. Banner was huddled on the ground, hunched in on himself. He couldn’t see Romanova, but Barton was kneeling next to the co-pilot’s chair and speaking lowly; Loki averted his eyes. Stark’s armor shielded his expression. Loki wished he had the same luxury: his own masks were slow to come, shattered into fragments. He wanted to grab hold of Steve and not let go. He felt raw. Skinned.

“Can we take off now?” Stark said. His voice was sharp, edged. “Before the local authorities get here and arrest us? Or worse, T’Challa finds out we broke his capital.” Banner flinched, and Barton stood, moving over to the pilot’s seat. Moving mechanically, Loki sat down, trying to breathe normally. He closed his eyes with the lurch as the plane took off.

“We need a safe house,” Barton said into the silence. Loki could hear his hesitation, feel the way he looked at Loki. “Somewhere we can go to ground. Regroup.”

“Do you forget that I already know all your secrets, Agent Barton,” Loki heard himself say, his voice dull. “They have nothing to fear from me.”

“They?” Stark’s voice was sharp. “Who’s ‘they’?”

Loki looked at Steve, who was looking at his hands, eyes hollow. Barton was quiet for a moment and then turned the plane, jaw tightening. He did not respond to Stark’s question. “Who’s ‘they’?” Stark repeated, this time directed at him. Loki did not answer either. He feared if he did he might start laughing, or screaming. He focused instead on trying to rebuild his mental defenses and trying to ignore the way he was shaking; the way Steve beside him was too still, and Thor across was too quiet. _A safehouse,_ some part of his mind gibbered. _What foolishness. Do not they know that nowhere is safe?_ He pushed it down, or tried, but it fought him, the panic like a living thing in his chest.

Steve’s hand crept over to his and squeezed. “You’re all right,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

_Am I?_ Loki thought, but he made himself squeeze back and wondered what Steve had seen. He would _kill_ that witch, would tear out her heart between her ribs ( _he’s coming he’s seen he knows, what does she matter, what does any of this matter when everything is going to end_ ).

“Loki?” Steve said, and Loki realized that his breathing had quickened again, increasing toward panting. He made himself focus and his eyes caught on Thor, who was looking at him, eyebrows furrowed. Loki looked quickly away, though his stomach clenched (Thor too? What had he seen?).

“I am fine,” he made himself say, keeping his voice low. He could tell Steve did not believe him, but he did not argue either.

They flew the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

“Where are we,” Banner asked, once they had landed. It was the first words he’d spoken since the attack in Wakanda. Loki still wasn’t certain what exactly he’d done, but he could imagine well enough. Banner’s voice sounded hoarse and quieter than usual.

Barton didn’t answer, at least not immediately. “A safe place,” he said, finally. “Just to…get a little time to bounce back.” He stood up and went over to Romanova, crouching down and dropping his voice so even Loki could barely catch his words. He didn’t try. Thor stirred himself, seeming to rouse from his distraction.

“What sort of safe place?” He asked. Loki avoided his gaze when Thor tried to look at him, not sure what his brother might be able to read there.

“My house,” Barton said, not quite evasively. Stark stirred from his own brooding, frowning.

“House? I thought you lived in a shitty apartment.”

“When I’m in the city, yeah.” Barton helped Romanova to her feet, though it looked like he was supporting most of her weight. Loki felt an odd, uncomfortable twinge and looked away, down at his hands. (His hands, covered in Steve’s blood. Loki felt his breathing stutter, panic creeping up again before he managed to push it down.) “Just…come with me.” He paused, though, looking at Loki. He fought the urge to laugh, harsh and probably hysterical.

“I think perhaps it would be best if I stay here,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. Barton’s lips pressed together but Loki did not think he imagined the brief flash of gratitude across his face.

“Yeah, can’t disagree with that one.” Barton hobbled past. Stark followed after a moment, though he looked bothered and Loki heard him mutter _weirder and weirder._ Banner trailed after, looking down at his feet and shuffling more than walking. Steve had stood, but now he hesitated.

“I don’t like leaving you here alone,” he said. “You…it’s not right. You’re not-”

“I will be fine, Captain.” Loki made his voice firmer than he felt, and forced himself to look to Thor. “Remind Steve that he needs to look to himself as well?”

Thor didn’t look pleased either, and Loki exhaled through his nose. He needed them gone before he – _cracked._ “I would expect one of you to appreciate my attempt to spare your comrade Barton more of my presence than is necessary.”

“You need food,” Steve said stubbornly. “Water, a bed…”

“Steve,” Loki said, and managed to summon a smile that felt weak and strained. “I will manage. Trust me on this. And go. Both of you. You may…you may return later, if you wish.” Steve hesitated like he was going to argue further, but to Loki’s surprise Thor set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“My friend,” he said quietly. “Loki is right. You will not be far. And you do need to look to your own needs.”

Steve slumped, and Loki felt a surge of gratitude toward Thor, though it was tangled with a strange kind of hurt. It was what was right, of course, but a part of him still felt foolishly abandoned. As though he _wanted_ Steve to argue him into submission, when he would have said anything to make him go.

“All right,” Steve said softly. “But – I _will_ be back. And – and I’ll talk to Clint. You can’t _sleep_ out here.”

_I have slept in worse places,_ Loki thought, but managed not to say, knowing it would be the opposite of reassuring. He let Steve embrace him, remembered in time to hold him back though he felt sullied and foul with the image the witch had burned into his brain. Steve kissed him, softly, and stepped away. “Thor?” He said.

“I will be but a moment.” Loki tried not to shrink from Thor’s scrutiny, looking past his shoulder as Steve left the plane. After a long moment he heard Thor sigh, his hand cupping the back of Loki’s neck and giving him a gentle jostle. “Brother…”

“She touched you too,” Loki said, the words almost stumbling. “Are you…”

“I am…troubled,” Thor said, and he sounded it. Uncertain, which more than anything made Loki feel cold and shaken. “But I will be well. And so will you.” Thor’s hand squeezed, warm and heavy, and just for a moment it chased Loki’s fear away. “Whatever you saw…was nothing but a dream. A nightmare.”

“Of course,” Loki made himself say. _Ah, Thor. If only it were._ His stomach clenched and he swallowed hard. “Go. Be with your friends.”

“I will see you again soon,” Thor said. “I swear it.” And he leaned in and kissed Loki’s forehead in a way that made him feel young and, ever so briefly, safe.

And then he was gone, and the fear closed back in. He huddled into his seat, pulling his knees into his chest, and tried to breathe deeply. He could still feel the witch’s magic in his mind. Or was it Thanos’s claws? He’d made himself forget, let himself believe… _folly._ Ultron, what was _Ultron_ when lurking in the darkness was something so much worse?

Loki realized he was gasping and forced himself to stop, holding his breath until his lungs ached and then counting his exhale, slow and deliberate, the way Frigga had taught him when he was a child. Count in, count out. Slow, steady _. Focus on the feeling of the seat against your back. The smell of recycled air. The sharp pain of your nails digging into your palms. Think of nothing but here and now; not forward, not back._

He crawled his way back from the edge, once again, and opened his eyes. He felt sick and unsteady, exhausted in his bones like he had run for miles.

Clint Barton was standing at the top of the ramp, staring at him.

Loki jerked, hastily unfolding with a jolt of self-disgust mingled with anger at being seen so pathetically weak, but Barton looked at him with neither disdain nor pity. His mouth was set in a grim line.

“Laura says hi,” he said, the words a clear challenge. Loki wondered what her actual words had been. He searched for courtesy and wanted to laugh upon realizing that there was truly no protocol for this sort of situation. At least not that he had learned.

“You may tell her that I appreciate her sufferance in allowing me to remain on her territory,” he said, eventually. Barton’s mouth twitched. Loki wasn’t sure if it was amusement. He dared a little further. “She is well?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Barton said flatly. After a moment, he added, “but yeah. She’s fine. No thanks to you.”

Loki made himself confine his response to a slight nod of his head. Even he knew that a reminder that he had known where she was and kept his distance – _and_ kept Barton’s secret – would not be appreciated. It still…felt strange, remembering the eager pride with which Barton had told him everything, had asked _maybe after, you’d want to meet them?_ and Loki had swallowed the urge to laugh and told Barton only that he would be very busy, but perhaps.

He’d been so _pleased._ Loki felt abruptly vaguely nauseous. Barton was still staring at him, and Loki tried not to let his shoulders hunch. “Is that all you had to say?”

“No,” he said finally. “I’m here to ask you if you want any food. Dinner’s lasagna.” Loki blinked, staring at Barton for a moment. His mouth tightened. “Wasn’t my idea, if you were wondering. Laura has very strong ideas about hospitality, even if she doesn’t want you in the house.”

Loki tried to find an adequate way to respond. “That is…kind of her,” he said, trying not to sound skeptical. Barton’s nostrils flared.

“You’re damn right it is.” Had that been the wrong thing to say? Loki’s mind still felt like it was skittering from thought to thought. He made himself keep his eyes open and on Barton though he wanted to look away. Barton’s expression tightened further. “Is that a yes?”

“Please,” Loki managed, after a moment, though his stomach felt tight and he was far from certain that he would be able to eat anything. Steve would only fret if he didn’t try. He did not need to give Steve more to worry about.

Barton jerked his head in a nod and turned to go, only to stop and turn back. “What you said. About whatever you did to – close me off from other people. Did you leave anything else in my head?” His voice was tight and angry, but Loki could hear the fear underneath and it made his stomach squirm uncomfortably. He thought of James and felt cold.

“No,” he said simply. “Nothing else.” He did look away, then, down at his hands. “If you prefer I can remove that as well, though it strikes me that you may find it useful in our present circumstances.”

“Oh, yeah,” Barton said, his voice acidic. “You were doing me a huge favor.”

Ah, Loki thought. It seemed they were going to do this now. He raised his eyes again to meet Barton’s stare. “I would apologize,” Loki said dully, “if I thought it would matter.”

“If you thought it would matter,” Barton said, his voice mocking. “You shouldn’t just apologize. You should _beg._ And you’re right. It wouldn’t matter.”

Loki’s fingers clenched and he forced them to relax, feeling a brief surge of emotion. “Would it help you? If I showed remorse, if I claimed to feel guilt for making you mine? I think not. I think you would rather have more reason to hate me, not less.”

Barton’s lip curled. “So this is all for _my_ sake, huh? Everything you do, everything you’ve _done,_ that’s for my own good.”

“No,” Loki said. “When I claimed you, that was for me.”

“ _Claimed_ me!” Barton’s voice rose sharply. “Is that how you’re going to put it? You _shoved_ inside my head and bent and twisted me until I was the tool you wanted. Do you _know_ what that’s like? Do you have _any_ kind of understanding of what you did to me? Do you – do you feel bad about it _at all?_ ”

Loki wasn’t certain. _Yes,_ he thought, but accepting that would mean accepting everything and then he thought he might drown in it. In guilt he did not know how to bear, and helplessness because he _knew-_ “What point is there if I did? It changes nothing. I cannot _undo_ it. There are no amends to be made.”

Barton made a disgusted noise. “That’s not the point.”

_Then what is,_ Loki wanted to ask. _If I cannot change the past what is the point in drowning myself in remorse for it, what would it do, would it truly satisfy you-_ He said nothing. Barton’s expression twisted. “You really don’t understand,” he said, and Loki could hear the disgust but also the disappointment in his voice. “I don’t know what I thought-”

“I do,” Loki said, groping after something on the edge of his thoughts. James, yes, but also the too-fresh, too-real feeling of watching Steve die at his hands. “I…unmade you. Turned you against those you love.” The words nearly strangled on his tongue, but he made himself speak them. “And I am sorry.”

Barton stared at him. His eyes remained narrowed but his surprise was obvious. Loki felt his lips quirk, though he knew the expression was not truly an amused one. “And I know how little those words mean.”

The stare did not abate for another moment. Barton licked his lips and took a shallow breath. Loki felt the hollow feeling in his chest expand, thinking of a memorial in New York City and all the things he could not undo. _I have always known what I was._

“Are you satisfied?” He asked, in the wake of Barton’s continued silence. Barton shook his head.

“It’s not about satisfaction,” he said, sounding strangely numb. After a moment, he added, “you’re right. An apology doesn’t – _make it better._ But that’s not the point.”

Then what is the point, Loki almost asked, but held his tongue. Waiting. Barton shifted.

“I said you hadn’t changed,” he said finally, abruptly. “Maybe I was wrong about that.” He turned his back, agitation clear in the set of his shoulders. Loki felt a brief urge to offer…something. He wasn’t sure what. “I’ll have Steve bring you dinner. There’s a hammock in the barn. If you want it.”

Loki licked his lips, not sure if the unsteadiness he felt was his own or a reflection of Barton’s. “Thank you,” he said cautiously.

“Don’t thank me,” Barton said, his voice rough. “Just…next time we cross paths with those Sokovians. Take out the girl before she gets in anyone’s head again.”

Loki let out a stuttering laugh. “Oh, I intend to,” he said. Barton jerked his head in a nod and left the plane.

Loki tried not to hunch his shoulders and wondered if this was what _making amends_ was supposed to feel like.

* * *

Steve came out perhaps an hour or so later, bearing a steaming plate of food. The smell of it made Loki’s stomach turn but he tried to smile. “Here,” Steve said, offering it to him. “I already…sorry. I’ll sit with you if you want.” Skittish, Loki thought. Fragile. The witch had done a good job.

“Thank you,” he said simply, taking the place and steeling himself to eat it. Steve sat down next to him, hip to hip, and Loki felt a surge of relief at the contact. He wondered what Steve had seen. If Loki had been in it, and in what capacity. Perhaps wreaking the destruction Steve must secretly fear he would return to.

Loki pushed the bitter thought aside and took a cautious bite of Laura Barton’s lasagna. Steve shifted.

“Are you…how are you doing?” He asked gingerly. “I’m sorry I left you out here alone, I didn’t know what was going on…”

Swallowing was difficult, like there was something lodged in his throat. “There is no need for you to apologize.” Steve shook his head.

“How are you doing,” he repeated. Loki shrugged one shoulder, knowing any lie would never be convincing.

“I will recover.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Loki closed his eyes with a soft sigh.

“I do not have a better answer.”

Steve hesitated for a moment like he might press the matter, and then sighed and shook his head. For a moment Loki feared he had annoyed him, but then Steve leaned sideways into him, like he, too, craved the physical closeness.

“Thor’s gone,” Steve said after a moment. Loki sat bolt upright, stiffening.  

“What?”

“He just took off,” Steve said. He looked tired, and lost. “Said he had to see about something. That he needed to find answers about something he’d seen in his vision. You don’t know…he didn’t say anything to you?”

“No,” Loki said, a little surprised by the pang that brought him. Once, Thor would have told him anything. Would not have wanted to go without him. Now…was it so important he did not trust Loki with it, or did he simply not believe him strong enough? “He said nothing.”

Steve looked unsettled, uncertain. “I…he’ll be back.”

“Of course,” Loki said, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt. “He is Thor. He will not miss the inevitable battle.” Steve smiled, wanly, and hovered for a moment longer before crossing and sitting beside Loki, his movements slow and deliberate as though he were hurting. It occurred to Loki, with a jarring feeling of nausea, that he did not know if Steve was.

“Are you…are _you_ well?”

“I’m fine,” Steve said, too quickly and dully to be anything but automatic. Loki lapsed back into quiet and looked away, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. “Did you know?” Steve asked, at length. “About…Clint’s family. You didn’t seem surprised.”

Loki stared straight ahead. “I knew, yes. He told me everything, remember.”

“You never said anything,” Steve said slowly.

“It was not my place,” Loki said after a moment. “That you did not know suggested he did not wish you to. Therefore.” He shrugged. He could feel Steve looking at him and waited without breaking the silence.

“Huh,” Steve said, finally. He paused, and Loki could hear him take a deep breath. “Do you want to…talk?”

“About?” Loki said, letting his gaze slide sideways ever so slightly, looking at Steve sidelong.

“About…whatever it was you saw.”

“And you?” Steve looked down at his hands in his lap and said nothing. Loki scoffed quietly. “Ah, of course. Not the invincible Captain. Your suffering is your own.” Steve’s mouth tightened.

“That’s not what it is. It just – it’s not important.”

“Of course it is important,” Loki shot back. “It hurt you. That is easily visible. That is importance enough.”

“And yours?” Steve said, his voice almost a challenge. “Is _that_ not important? Because it’s you?” Loki did not have an answer ready for that, and after a moment’s silence Steve shook his head and sighed. “It was just…a dancehall, but everything was…wrong. I thought it wasn’t at first, but then I noticed…things…happening. And Peggy was there, saying the war was over and I could come home…” Steve trailed off, and glancing at him Loki could see a lost look on his face. There was more, he thought, than Steve had said, but what he _had_ spoken was enough. A petty jealousy clawed at Loki’s heart, that this Ms. Carter was still _home,_ but he pushed it away.

“Then it was the waking that was terrible,” Loki said quietly.

“No,” Steve said slowly. “No…I knew, even there, that it wasn’t true. Because of what was happening – the party all mixed up with people dying, people killing each other. It was…even in the dance hall, I brought the war with me.” Steve squeezed his eyes closed, and Loki reached for him hesitantly, laying fingers lightly on his arm. Comfort, as always, felt clumsy.

“It was nothing but a twisted imagining planted in your mind by the witch,” Loki said. “Less even than a dream, for it was crafted to cause you pain.”

Steve nodded, though shallowly, and Loki could see his disbelief. “I know. I know it wasn’t real.”

_But the feelings are. The fear is._ Loki wished he knew the right words to speak to chase the sorrow from Steve’s brow, but they would not come to him. He heard Steve breathe in. “What…what about you?”

Loki closed his eyes. “The stuff of nightmares. Is that not enough?”

“Loki…” Steve’s voice was gentle, though he sounded pained. Loki clenched his fist until his nails bit into skin.

_It does not matter what I saw. It may have been a vision but it is possible it will not be. I do not know what to do._ “I should have been ready,” he said, instead of what he knew Steve wanted to hear. “Been able to fight her off…I am meant to have defenses from this sort of thing.”

“You weren’t expecting it,” Steve said. “None of us were.” He waited, and Loki said nothing. “Loki,” Steve said again, even more gently. “It might help.”

Loki dug his nails harder into his palm, the panic rising up again, vicious and awful. The words exploded out of him suddenly: “I killed you.”

“Well, you didn’t,” Steve said after a moment. “I’m still right here.” He reached out and took his wrist. “Stop that,” he said, tugging at Loki’s fingers. “You’re hurting yourself.” Loki made his fingers uncurl, though they twitched with the need to grip something. Steve’s fingers interlaced with his seemed too fragile.

“I know,” Loki said, and his voice sounded hoarse and harsh. “I _know,_ but it was – I could feel your blood on my hands. It is a risk, you know, that someday I may be the death of you.”

Steve shook his head. “There’s always a risk. I’m not worried about – about that.”

“Perhaps you should be,” Loki said. He could hear a faint note of desperation sliding into his voice. “What if – what if I am turned against you? If, somehow, someone were to – make me fight you. Would you be able to-”

“No,” Steve said, his voice suddenly harsh and raw. “Loki, _no._ I’m not going to have this conversation with you.”

“You need to,” Loki insisted. “I need to know that you would not hesitate, if that time comes, that you would not flinch from striking me down if-”

“If _nothing,_ ” Steve said loudly. “You’re talking about something so hypothetical – and what if that happens to _me,_ huh? Should I ask about your contingency plans for that?” Something in his voice sounded angry, and Loki wanted to flinch. He shook his head, hard. _You do not understand, Thanos already half owns me, it would be child’s play to him to make me his puppet if he wished._

“It is not the same,” he insisted.

“Why,” Steve said, “because my life is worth more than yours? Because I’m supposed to be able to promise to _kill_ you, just like – just like that?” Loki looked away and swallowed hard, and Steve released his wrist to draw his chin back, forcing their eyes to meet. “I told you. No. I won’t. If- _if_ that ever happened, I’d find another way.”

Loki shuddered, a small sound bursting from him. Steve staring at him in horror and shock and Thanos’s voice echoing, _you’ve done well, Loki._ “Steve,” he said, but Steve shook his head.

“You’re just scared,” he said. “I know – I know how that feels. But like you said – it was just a bad dream. She was _trying_ to throw you off your game, get into your head.” _It’s working,_ Loki thought, and stared at his plate. The red sauce looked for a moment like blood before he shook himself and it was once again just lasagna. “That’s all it was. Not a vision of the future. Not – not something inevitable. Just…fears.”

Loki turned into Steve, wishing he dared climb into his lap, wishing he could climb into Steve’s skin and out of his own, curl up next to his lover’s steadily beating heart and take shelter there. He felt sick and tired and shaky. “I love you,” he said, voice small. “I do not – I do not want to be what kills you. And I fear – I have always feared…”

“You’ve been the thing that saves me,” Steve said. “Again and again. Loki…I’m not worried.”

_Perhaps he should be,_ whispered a nasty, snide voice in the back of Loki’s mind. _You know that is what you are, in the end. Chaos, destruction. Ruin._

Loki pushed it away as best he could. _Please,_ he thought, to anyone who might be listening. _Let him be right. Let him be right and all my fears come to nothing._ He stayed there, fingers wrapped in Steve’s shirt and letting himself be held.

* * *

Loki let it last as long as he dared, but he could feel Steve beginning to flag, exhaustion setting in. “You should go,” he said. His voice sounded rough, but adequately steady. “Sleep while you can. You need it.”

Steve roused himself. “What about you,” he mumbled. “Where’re you going to sleep?” He did not, Loki noticed, try to insist that Loki could come inside; he at once appreciated it and felt oddly offended that he would not argue with the unspoken edict excluding him from the house. He shrugged one shoulder. _It is unlikely I will sleep at all._

“Apparently there is a cot in the barn. Agent Barton kindly offered me its use.” He saw Steve frown, and summoned a smile. “If you are considering joining me out of some sense of duty – I suspect it would be less than comfortable for two.”

Steve’s frown only deepened. “I wish,” he started to say, and cut off with a sigh. “It’s not fair,” he said instead, lowly.

Loki made himself shrug. “I do not know about that.”

Steve looked like he was struggling, and Loki waited. “You’ll get cold,” he said. “I can get you some blankets, or-”

“Steve,” Loki said softly, feeling a pang of guilt for even the faint resentment he’d felt. “I will be fine. Go. Rest. Tomorrow…tomorrow we will need to plan again.”

Steve looked exhausted, but he hesitated still. Loki resisted the urge to use magic to urge him away, knowing Steve would hate him for it. So he simply waited, and finally Steve’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t like it,” he said plainly. “It still…doesn’t feel right. Leaving you alone.”

_I have been alone many times before,_ Loki did not say. “Only for a night,” he said, making himself smile. “I have been without you for much longer than that.” _Not like this,_ Steve’s eyes said, but he stood slowly.

“Promise me,” he said. “If anything happens…if you need anything at all…you’ll wake me.”

“If I need you,” Loki said, hedging a little, “I will call.” Steve must have been exhausted indeed, or else unwilling to argue. He didn’t contest the adjusted phrasing, just nodded, then pulled Loki into a tight hug, exhaling harshly.

“We’ll get through this,” he mumbled. Loki made himself nod.

“Oh, assuredly,” he said, summoning cocky arrogance to his voice. “What is Ultron in the end but animated scrap metal? You have fought far worse.” Steve’s small smile said he saw through Loki’s posturing, but he didn’t challenge it.

“I’ll come out and check on you in the morning,” Steve said. “We’ll need to meet as a group, talk about our plans…”

“Will I be invited to that discussion?” Loki asked, and perhaps something slipped through because Steve’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Of course,” he said. “You’re part of the team, aren’t you?”

_Am I,_ Loki thought but didn’t say, just nodded.

He let Steve leave first, alone, slipping out after him. He glanced just briefly at the house – small and comfortable looking, a few lights still on in the windows. It looked very little different from what he had assumed was Barton’s rose-colored memories where it stood for warmth and safety. He turned away with just the briefest flash of envy ( _you will never be safe_ ) and strode across the grounds like a shadow. The barn door stood open a crack and he slipped through it, only to stop at finding it already occupied.

“Ah,” he said, feeling his shoulders winding tight again, posture straightening and mask settling over his features. “You.”

“Me,” Director Fury agreed. He did not look surprised. Loki wondered for a flash of a moment if this was a trap laid for him by Barton: likely so. He stayed where he was, wary and waiting. This was, he realized, the first time they had been face to face since meeting on different sides of the glass on SHIELD’s helicarrier.

“What a surprise,” he said after a moment, keeping his voice bland. “I thought you were supposed to be dead.”

Fury raised one eyebrow, very slightly. “Sometimes we all find it convenient to be dead for a little while,” he said, perhaps a little pointedly. Loki didn’t blink. “And you already knew I wasn’t.”

He didn’t argue with that. Simply set his feet and lifted his chin a fraction so he could look down his nose. “And you are here now because you want….what, exactly?”

Fury snorted. “Suspicious bastard, aren’t you? I’m not here for _you._ I’m here for them.” He gestured in the direction of the house. Loki let his lips curl toward a mirthless smile, feeling the contrast to Steve’s words in that _them._

“And that is why you are lurking out here instead of announcing yourself at the door.”

“I’m just giving them a little ‘me’ time.”

Loki let his lip curl. “No interest in catching me alone and gauging your enemy for yourself.” He felt too brittle to be safe. But he could not run to Steve, not now, not and show his weakness so nakedly.

“Former enemy, I thought,” Fury said, though his cold and wary gaze suggested _in name only, I still don’t trust you._ “Turned over a new leaf, I hear.”

“Can anyone _truly_ turn over a new leaf, Director Fury?” He asked, his voice cold. Fury’s eyebrow cocked.

“I guess we’d all better hope so.”

Loki was too tired to do this dance. Too raw. “What do you want,” he asked bluntly. Fury did not look surprised by his directness, but Fury was almost as good at masking his emotions as Romanova. His eyebrows twitched up slightly, but that was all.

“Maybe just a chance to talk face to face. Haven’t done that since you…turned over a new leaf.”

Loki carefully kept himself from showing any response to the tone of Fury’s voice on that phrase. “To what aim,” he asked, flatly. “If you have suspicions, I doubt anything I could say would allay them.”

“You’d be right about that. Your word’s worth about as much to me as a Confederate dollar.”

Loki did not let his lip curl. “Then your purpose is?”

“Curiosity. A chance to look you in the eye, now that you’re supposedly a new man.” Loki cocked his head, though the gesture felt almost like pantomime, a performance of what was expected of him.

“And what do you think, director? Am I?”

“Some things never change,” Fury said, and Loki wanted to laugh, a sharp bark, the memory of his vision too close at hand. But then the man shrugged. “Not sure you’re one of those, though. Seems to me you might be good at change, if you tried.”

“If I tried,” Loki echoed, feeling briefly as though he’d been slapped across the face. Fury nodded once, looked Loki over again.

“That’s what I said. Doesn’t mean I trust you any more. Don’t get excited.”

Loki huffed a very quiet laugh, not really out of any amusement. “I will try to contain myself.”

“Glad to hear it.” Fury stepped toward him, and Loki resisted the urge to step away. “Team meeting in the house.”

Loki tried not to let his eyebrows twitch. “Am I invited?”

“Try to step over the threshold and I guess we’ll see,” Fury said. Loki felt himself frown, and the man simply snorted. “That didn’t sound like an invitation to you?” Loki said nothing, as it had not, in fact, sounded like anything other than a declaration of fact. Fury shook his head. “It was,” he said flatly, after a moment. “Now are you going to stand in the door all night or get out of my way?”

Loki got out of his way. Then he trailed after the Director over to the door of the farmhouse, feeling distinctly out of place but unwilling to stay behind. If he did not want to be the outsider ( _you are the outsider, whether you act like it or not_ ) then he would have to involve himself. And hope Barton did not put an arrow in his throat, or anywhere else, for entering his sanctuary.

Barton opened the door promptly when Fury knocked, and if his eyes flickered over Loki for a moment of hesitation, he didn’t say anything. Stepped back, in fact, to allow them both through. A change of heart, Loki wondered, or recognition of necessity? He did note that Laura Barton was not in the kitchen. Nor, of course, was Thor, and Loki felt a pang, not just for the loss of one of his two trustworthy allies.

And the nagging question: _where did he go? What is he looking for?_

Loki stayed back from the others, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms, blanking his expression. None of the others, he noticed, seemed terribly surprised by Fury’s appearance. He wondered how long _they_ had known.

“I thought you were going to rest,” he said to Steve, somewhat pointedly.

Steve gave him a smile, faintly sheepish. “Seems like there were other plans.”

Loki confined himself to a small “hm” and settled back on his heels.

“All right,” Steve said, visibly straightening after one more brief glance at Loki. “What do we have?”

“Not much,” Barton said, blunt and to the point. “Ultron wants us dead, he has two Sokovian sidekicks-“

“Possible identification of Pietro and Wanda Maximoff,” Fury broke in. “Sokovian nationals linked with HYDRA at one point, dropped out of sight maybe eight months ago-”

“Around the time _someone_ was savaging every HYDRA lair on the planet,” Stark said. “Looks like you missed a spot, Lokester.”

Loki managed not to twitch. “I suspect they were either sent away prior to my arrival or chose to abandon their masters at an opportune moment. That seems irrelevant at the moment.” He could hear the brittle note in his voice and hoped that Stark either did not or was not so foolish as to pounce on it. By the way Steve glanced at him, frowning, he heard it too.

“Whoever these Maximoffs are,” he said, “They’re working with Ultron now, and that’s what matters. Loki – her magic. Could you track it, like you did with the scepter?”

“Possibly,” Loki said carefully, after a moment’s hesitation.

“Possibly?” Barton’s voice was sharp. “Yes or no?”

“Possibly,” Loki insisted, throwing a brief glance at Barton before focusing his eyes on the window instead. “Her magic is…not that I am used to. Chaos magic, hex workings. It is unpredictable. If she is clever, she could intentionally misdirect any such attempt. Even if she is not clever, it may happen accidentally; many with little control over their abilities otherwise are nonetheless capable of protecting themselves in such ways.” _Once again,_ a voice whispered at the back of his mind. _Useless._

“Do we know anything more about Ultron’s plan? How exactly he intends to proceed?” Romanov spoke up for the first time, and her voice seemed quieter than usual, almost subdued. Her back was straight, however, and Loki knew there was more than a little steel in her. Perhaps more, he thought, than anyone else in this room. He almost wished he could ask her how she dealt with the horrors in her mind, brought surging fresh to the fore, but he knew he would not. Could not.

Steve shook his head. “We know he wanted vibranium. To build a new body, is our best guess – something stronger, more powerful.”

“And there is the scepter,” Banner added unexpectedly. “He took that, too. Why? He didn’t use it on the Maximoffs.”

There was something nagging at the back of Loki’s mind again. Something he should _know._ He could feel it pressing on him – something about the scepter, _something-_

It wasn’t there. Steve was looking at him with worry again, and Loki struggled to summon a smile before he realized that it wasn’t just Steve: the whole merry band was watching him expectantly. “Ah,” he said, “you expect I might have some insight into this creature’s intentions? Perhaps because of our common villainy?” Ah, he had slipped. Let too much bitterness bleed into his voice.

Banner was the one who answered, to his surprise, though he caught the twist of Barton’s mouth that suggested he was thinking _yeah, maybe._ “More like you know more about the scepter than any of us. What else could Ultron want it for, if not controlling people?”

Loki felt immediately foolish. Of course that was all they had meant. “Power,” he said simply, hoping his face did not show his shame. “Quite possibly it is as simple as that. There is…a great deal of energy in that scepter, though it would be…difficult to tap in its raw form.”

“That’s true,” Stark said, leaning forward with his chin on his hand. Loki kept himself from snapping that of course it was. “I spent a while trying to figure out how to do just that – access the potential in that jewel thing – but-”

Loki felt a spike of fear. “Foolish,” he interrupted. “It is lucky you did not manage to get close. Most likely you would have annihilated everything in your vicinity.”

“Could it be that simple?” Steve asked, sitting up straighter. “He wants to use the scepter as a bomb?”

Romanov shook her head. “That doesn’t seem right. Easier ways of doing that, if that was his game plan. No, there’s something else.”

There was, Loki thought with a pang of frustration, and he knew it. The idea of cracking open that jewel filled him with unreasoning fear, far too strong. He knew something, or _had_ known something. He remembered the feeling of the Other’s fingers rifling through his mind. Or worse, Thanos.

“A new body,” Barton said quietly, suddenly. “Doctor Cho. The synthetic skin she was working on. Could someone, hypothetically, make it out of vibranium?”

“Oh,” Stark said. “Shit. So uh. Anyone heard from Helen lately?”

Silence. Loki might not know who this “Doctor Cho” was, but the problem was clear enough. Fury’s expression only twitched slightly.

“So,” he said. “Maybe someone should go find her?”

“That’d probably be a good start,” Romanov agreed.

Loki stood back and watched them work, aware that he could try to get involved but equally aware that his participation would likely be unwelcome. Fury was watching him, which Loki ignored, and every so often he caught Barton glancing in his direction, frowning like he was trying to figure something out. Loki ignored him as well, keeping his expression blank and worrying at the question of the scepter, at whatever it was he _knew_ but could not remember.

He could feel eyes on his back and turned his head just enough to see that he was being watched – two small pairs of eyes peering around the corner, attempting to be inconspicuous. Lila and Cooper, he remembered – Barton’s children. If he thought a little, he could probably remember their ages, their favorite colors, what sorts of things they liked to do. _Lila looks up to Nat,_ he remembered Barton saying. _Calls her Auntie. It made her uncomfortable at first but now I think she loves it._ Loki felt an odd pang, wondering if he ought to let on that he could see them. Were they here to observe the meeting, or him specifically? The monster.

He wondered what Barton had told them about him. What images they might have conjured to associate with the _thing_ that had hurt their father. Loki closed those thoughts away and locked them down, turning his head back and making himself focus.

Whatever the answer, it did not matter. Like as not he would never see them again.

When it happened, it hit him like a hammer ringing a bell. One moment he was standing in Barton’s kitchen, watching the Avengers make their plans at a slight remove, and the next he _felt_ it, like a ripple from a stone dropped into water – but it was more of a tidal wave, and a mountain. He almost staggered at the way it rang against his senses. He could feel its magic, shining like a beacon, half a world away.

And Loki knew, very suddenly, what he had forgotten.

“Loki?” Steve sounded nervous, and when Loki blinked he realized that they were all staring at him, and he wondered what sort of sound he had made. Steve was half out of his chair, his eyes wide. “What…”

A beacon in the dark for all the universe to see. Anyone with the right eyes would sense it, now that it was no longer contained. How could he have been so _stupid,_ so _blind-_

_(Because you were meant to be. A pawn, a tool. Not to be trusted with a raw Infinity Stone.)_

An explanation in full would take too much time. “I suggest whatever you are going to do, do it swiftly,” Loki managed to say. “Ultron has just acquired a weapon that, should he master its use, will threaten a great deal more than the lot of you.”

Fury’s eye narrowed. “What kind of weapon?”

“A magical one,” Loki said shortly. His heart had started to pound again, a clock ticking at the back of his mind. “It would be a waste of your time for me to explain more than that.”

“Man, I _love_ when you get cryptic,” Stark said bitingly. “It really puts me in a good mood.”

“Tony,” Romanov said. She was examining Loki closely, and he looked back at her, let her read his face for just a moment. Her…he did not _trust_ her, exactly, but she was quicker to understand than some. After a moment, she nodded as though he’d answered some question. “Whatever Ultron’s doing, Doctor Cho is in trouble and we don’t want him winding up with another new, improved body.”

Banner looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “So I guess we’re going to Seoul.”

“No,” Steve said, his voice firm. “You and Tony – go back to the Tower. Sam and Buck need an update, and you should call in backup. And see if you can figure out a way to shut Ultron down permanently.” Banner looked pathetically relieved. “The rest of us – me, Natasha, Clint, and Loki – we’ll help Helen, then reconvene and figure out our final strategy.” Loki felt a touch of relief. Steve seemed well – taking command, the image of confidence. It might well just be an image, he knew, but an image could be reality. That was…good.

“Save the world, kids,” Fury drawled. “Make me proud.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end of another installment of Remember This Cold, folks. (And possibly the last big plotty one for a bit, though I mean, no promises. You never know what will happen with this brain of mine.) And I'm not done! Seriously, I'm so very, very not done.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the ride! As always, this verse is kind of my baby and the response it's gotten (and continues to get) still blows me away. Thank you to all of you.
> 
> Without further ado! There will be a few extras for this fic posted on my Tumblr, as well as, eventually, cross-posted here. Credit, as always, to my infinitely patient [beta/Steve](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com)!

For once, things very nearly went as planned.

They recovered the case containing Ultron’s prospective body (and Loki could hear it _singing,_ it took all his willpower not to run to that sound and _take_ the Infinity Stone, the things he could do – but no). Doctor Cho, it seemed, was already free. There were only two problems.

“Has anyone seen Nat?” Barton’s voice asked over the communicators, thin and strained, and no one answered. Loki felt suddenly, unexpectedly, cold. Romanova, he thought, was likely already dead.

He would have apologized, if he thought it would be welcomed. At least, if mortals could find their way there, he was quite certain she would be welcome in Valhalla. Whatever else she was, Romanova had a warrior’s heart.

The other…

When Steve returned, Doctor Cho staying just a little too close, he wasn’t alone. Trailing behind him were the twins – the Maximoffs, Wanda and her brother.

Loki felt his lips peel back from his teeth and heard himself snarl, his magic surging up to answer his anger. He wasn’t the only one; Barton went taut and had his bow in hand. Steve stopped and held up his hands. “They’re here to help,” he said.

“Help,” Barton said. “Haven’t they _helped_ enough?”

Pietro looked sullen; it was Wanda who spoke. “Ultron wants to destroy the world entirely. Eradicate all of humanity.” Her voice was accented like her brother’s. “We do not want that.”

“Ah, well then,” Loki said, hearing something ugly in his voice. “All is forgiven.”

“Loki,” Steve said, and though it was quiet Loki could hear the reproach in it, and the reminder. _You went a lot further._ It did not relax him. He could still remember the _feeling_ of the witch’s magic in his mind, clawing open old wounds. The knowledge that she had seen that – seen _anything –_ made him feel sick. “We need their help. They can tell us more about Ultron’s plans than anyone. Wanda freed Doctor Cho.”

Loki flexed his fingers at his side, not releasing the magic he held at the ready. “And you trust them,” he said flatly. “Do you forget-”

“I don’t,” Steve interrupted. “But we have to think about priorities right now.”

Loki clenched his right hand into a fist and glanced at the witch. She met his eyes, proud and defiant, and Loki felt a surge of rage, the urge to lash out and make her _hurt._ “Nat is gone,” Barton said, and though his voice was flat Loki could hear the suppressed emotion in it. “She’s with Ultron. She’s going to get in touch with us as soon as she can, I need to have ears out for it.”

Loki felt a flash of pity, wondering how long that particular delusion would last. He pushed that down with the rage. Steve was looking at him, waiting. Not commanding that Loki be silent and go along, but waiting. Like it mattered, that Loki agreed.

 _If_ he _can let go what she did to him for the sake of his realm,_ Loki thought. _You have worked with those you liked less._ He nodded, shortly. “Fine,” he said, letting the power slip away and turning on the witch. “But if you so much as _gesture_ at me again with your _chaos magic…_ ” He let the threat hang. Steve looked at Barton.

“Let’s get back,” Barton said shortly, not precisely agreement, but he snapped his bow back down, his shoulders hunched. Loki felt the odd flash of the urge to comfort him, and decided the best comfort he could give was to say nothing.

He sat as far from the witch and her brother as he could on the jet, watching them whisper lowly to each other in their own language. He could only catch one word in ten, but the All-Tongue let him understand. They were doubtful, wary, uncertain. He did not bother to disguise his stare, and at length the witch turned and looked at him.

“I am sorry,” she said, after a moment. Loki felt himself stiffen.

“Oh?”

Something flickered across her face and she glanced briefly down at her hands before looking back at him, chin raised. “I hurt you,” she said. “I believed…but that doesn’t matter.”

Loki stared at her. _You tore into my mind and dredged up my nightmares,_ he wanted to snarl, but that would be too much like admitting how much she had reached him; too much like vulnerability he could not have. Barton was surely listening, and so was Steve.

“If you are expecting me to claim that I forgive you,” he said finally, voice acidic. He could feel her brother glowering at him, but did not so much as glance in his direction.

“I’m not,” the witch interrupted. “But I wanted to say it.” Loki said nothing, tugging at her words for what might be hidden in them, but he could find nothing. _What did you see,_ a morbid part of him wanted to ask. _Do you_ know _what I saw, or-_ “Your ability,” she said suddenly, cutting into Loki’s thoughts. “I have never met anyone else-“

“Like you?” Loki let his lip curl. “My magic is nothing like yours. Chaos magic and hexes.”

She leaned forward, expression turning curious. “Is that what it is?”

Loki turned his head and stared at her. “You do not know?”

“No,” she said. He could see a curious light in her eyes. “Magic? They called it-“ She frowned, plainly trying to remember. “Electromagnetic manipulation.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, feeling an unwilling curiosity. “Hydra called it,” he said, and oddly enough the witch flinched. Her brother moved toward her.

“They did not tell us that name,” he said, voice harsh, his hand resting on his sister’s shoulder protectively. Loki felt a pang that he pushed away, thinking of Thor (where was he, what was he doing, was he safe). Wanda raised a hand and put it on his without looking at him.

“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “That was Hydra’s words.”

Loki felt his mouth spasm. _Lucky you were not more loyal,_ he thought, _or I would have slaughtered you then._ He almost said it, but did not. He had agreed, however little he liked it. “Humans dislike admitting to the fact that there may be things they cannot explain in scientific terms,” he said coldly. “It is unsurprising they would avoid admitting to the nature of your… _gift._ ”

“Chaos magic,” the witch said, sounding like she was trying the words out. “And how-”

“Do not ask _me,_ ” Loki said harshly. “I know very little of such _primitive_ magecraft.” The witch stiffened, and he could see her nostrils flare with temper, but she controlled it. Her brother opened his mouth, but he caught the slight squeeze of her hand that silenced him.

“Humans,” she said after a moment. “You and – the other one, Thor. You are not-“

“Human? No.” Loki gave her a nasty smile. “Did your prying in our heads discover that?”

This time she met his eyes without looking down. “It was different,” she said. Loki let his lip curl, his stomach knotting at the idea of her in his mind, pawing about in his thoughts. (He thought of Barton again, and pushed the comparison away.)

“I _do_ hope you enjoyed the experience.”

Wanda did not flinch at that, either, but she sat back and fell silent. He could sense her desire to ask more, but she did not.

“We saw you,” she said, at length. “When you attacked von Strucker’s stronghold. He was the one who…” She trailed off, and a part of Loki wondered what lay at the end of that sentence. He told himself he did not care what von Strucker might or might not have done to those in his no doubt tender care.

“Did you,” he said coldly. Loki flashed his teeth. “A pity I did not see _you_ ,” he said. He caught Pietro’s twitch, but Wanda’s hand squeezed again. She was the leader, he thought. The older? Difficult to say. Steve’s hand found his arm and squeezed lightly, and Loki realized that he was wound tightly enough to be shaking.

“He was not our friend,” Wanda said, and now her voice sounded colder.

“Nor mine,” Loki said. “As no doubt you gathered.” _Remember what I can do. Remember what I can do to_ you.

“Loki,” Steve said quietly, again not quite scolding, and Loki felt the brief, intense urge to snarl at him, but it passed. He pulled his eyes away from the twins, lips pressed together. He could feel the witch’s frustration beating against him. _What did you expect,_ he wanted to snap. _To be forgiven immediately? Accepted and embraced?_

 _That is not how it was for me,_ Loki thought. Perhaps it was hypocritical. He had, after all, done much worse than let himself be tricked into brief association with a villain.

Perhaps that was the trouble, a bitter part of Loki thought. He envied them their ease. The fact that they had turned away before it was too late.

That was an ugly thought and he pushed it away, trying to empty his mind.

* * *

The moment they arrived at the tower, Barton rushed off, no doubt to seek any sign that the Widow was still alive. The Maximoffs retreated into a corner with each other. Loki could feel the Infinity Stone pulsing in his awareness, calling him, but the case holding it and the body Ultron had been crafting had already been whisked away to Stark’s laboratory, and Loki had no wish to squabble further with that man. Steve had vanished upstairs, no doubt to update James and Sam Wilson on their actions. Loki was half tempted to follow – it would be better than standing here with what had to be the Mind Stone singing to him, and watching the twins warily out of the corner of his eye – but he suspected that Steve might want to have a moment with his friends, and Loki could not intrude on that.

So he waited, back against the wall and eyes half closed, and thought of Thor. What had he seen? Why had he told no one? Surely if he believed it dangerous he would have asked…but perhaps not. Thor had always believed he could do anything on his own.

He would _know_ if Thor was in danger, a childish part of Loki insisted, but he knew he would not.

Pietro Maximoff was looking at him with undisguised hostility. Loki turned his head to stare back.

“Do you trust Stark?” He asked abruptly.

“I trust almost no one,” Loki said.

“You trust Captain America,” Pietro said, and there was a hint of something there, perhaps mockery.

“As should you,” Loki said, forcing his voice to stay neutral. He glanced toward the windows. “Whether it is wise or not, he appears to have decided that you are…worthy.”

“That is not his to decide,” Pietro said sharply.

“In fact,” Loki said, lips twisting, “it is. Should that judgment turn out to be misplaced…” He let that hang. Pietro scoffed, looking unimpressed, and opened his mouth, but his sister squeezed his arm.

“We live on this planet too,” she said. “We have no wish to see it destroyed.”

 _And after?_ Loki thought, but did not say, and he could hear footsteps coming down the stairs. He tried to keep himself from straightening, too aware of his watchers. He could see the lines of strain around Steve’s eyes when he entered.

“James?” Loki asked.

“Not here,” Steve said, and when Loki felt himself tense, clarified, “he and Sam are in a safe house out of the city. They figured this building might be a target.” That made sense, and Loki relaxed, slightly. The Maximoffs did not. Pietro was on his feet, looking like he might start vibrating.

“You gave the body to Stark,” he said, accent thickening with his agitation. This time his sister did not reach out to stop him.

“The-“ Steve looked disoriented for a moment, and Loki saw his eyes go to where Clint had exited, but then he seemed to realize. “Oh – the synthetic body that Ultron created. Yeah. That’s his…thing.”

Pietro’s mouth twisted and Loki thought _ah, some history there, I wonder where they met before,_ but it was idle curiosity. “And you think that is _smart?_ ”

Steve’s back stiffened a little. “You don’t, clearly,” he said simply, voice staying even. Loki was almost relieved by the reaction; some part of him had almost wondered if the witch had guided his decision to let the Maximoffs join them, even if her powers did not seem to lie in that direction.

Though in truth…he supposed he had no idea of the true limits of her powers. That thought disquieted him.

“No,” Pietro nearly snapped. “I do not. Stark is-” He paused, eyes flicking to Wanda, who shook her head slightly. Loki could not resist letting his lips quirk.

“Please, go on,” he said dryly. Steve gave him a sharp look, and Pietro’s nostrils flared though he did not glance in Loki’s direction.

“Not always a very good man,” Pietro said, finally. Delicately. It was still the wrong words to choose. Steve’s expression tightened.

“I know you don’t like him,” Steve said, “but Tony’s war profiteering is in the past. Now – he’s as dedicated to this as any of us. He wouldn’t endanger the team.”

“Do you forget who built Ultron in the first place?” Wanda asked, more quietly than her brother, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, their closeness effortless, easy. It made Loki’s teeth set on edge. The question might have been scolding, but she managed to make it sting less.

“By accident,” Steve insisted, but Loki felt himself stiffening.

“Ultron was an accident,” he said lowly, meaning the words primarily for Steve’s ears. “But he _was_ attempting to create a sentient being.”

Something dawned on Steve’s face, something connecting in his mind, and he turned abruptly. “Loki – come with me. Wanda, Pietro-”

“We are not Avengers that you can order about,” Pietro said. “If it is to come to a fight with Stark-”

“It won’t,” Steve said firmly, but Loki could read his anxiety and tension in the set of his shoulders.

“Barton,” Loki reminded him. Steve shook his head.

“Can stay focused on finding Nat. Hopefully-” He didn’t finish the sentence.

Stark stopped midsentence when they entered the lab. His eyes flicked to Pietro, then Wanda, and Loki saw his muscles tighten. Banner, further back, looked like an uncertain shadow, though Loki could feel the energy around him shift, coiling. “Gang’s all here,” Stark said too loudly. “Great big party, isn’t it-”

“Shut up,” Pietro said. Not just dislike, Loki thought. Loathing. Perhaps they could have some common ground after all.

“What are you doing,” Steve asked. His voice didn’t quite accuse, but it was enough. Loki could almost see his hackles rise. Just as he could feel the Mind Stone singing to him. He grabbed onto the railing, almost reeling from the force of it. Practically an _invitation._ His mouth went dry.

The lie flickered across Stark’s face and was gone. He glanced toward the body on the table – a body that felt _wrong_ to Loki’s senses, not dead but not alive either, not inert matter but not a living being. It hovered uneasily in between, jangling against his nerves, nothing there to grab hold of – but the Mind Stone gleaming in its forehead. “It’s JARVIS,” he said. “I’m uploading JARVIS into the body.”

Steve went still. Loki had seldom seen him – truly furious, but he thought he caught a glimpse of it now. “You can’t be serious,” he said, voice low, too quiet. “Tony, you tried this before, remember? We’re still _fighting_ the result. And how do you know, how do you know that what you’re uploading is JARVIS, you said his code was – _wrecked_ -”

“I _know,_ ” Stark interrupted. “Look, I’ve been tracking – something, it keeps blocking Ultron, slowing him down. It’s JARVIS, it _has_ to be. Some kind of backup, or – _something._ This is mine, Cap-”

“It’s not yours if you end up creating another monster!” Steve’s voice rose. Loki summoned his magic and it surged to him in a rush. If he could slide down, remove the Mind Stone, conceal it away- “Listen to what you’re _saying._ ”

“I _am_ listening! You’re not listening to _me!_ ” Stark’s voice was rising too, thoroughly distracted. “This is the _future,_ Steve. And – and how is it _fair_ that _you_ get to resurrect your friend and I-”

“Bucky _isn’t a computer._ ”

“JARVIS isn’t just a _computer_ either!”

Loki wove himself out of notice and slunk down toward the body. He could hear its whisper: _take me, use me. All my power, yours._

“Touch me and I _swear,_ ” he heard in Banner’s voice, a snarl underneath it of his beast. He could see him holding the witch by her throat out of the corner of his eye, though a moment later he jerked back as though he’d shocked himself. Steve and Stark were closing on each other, but Loki could hardly hear their arguments.

He could almost taste it. Humming in his blood. He’d _held_ it, encased in the scepter, kept ignorant of its truth. But he saw now. Loki extended his fingers.

Several things happened at once. A quiet beep accompanied by a voice saying _upload complete._ The others froze. And thunder boomed outside. Loki looked toward it, eyes widening, snatching his fingers back. Suddenly aware – Infinity Stones were not easy to hold, or to use. More often than not they devoured their wielders. If Loki had tried to claim it and not proved strong enough-

He did not finish the thought before Thor exploded through the door, Mjolnir in hand and eyes blazing, and Loki flinched back, suddenly afraid. _He knows,_ half formed thoughts clamored. _He thinks I will betray – he thinks I am still -_

“Thor?” Steve said. Thor did not answer. His eyes swept to the body and he strode forward, grip on the hammer shifting. “Thor, wait,” Steve said.

“Stand back, all of you.” Thor’s voice was rough, almost harsh. Loki stumbled back, hands half upraised, but Thor did not glance at him.

“You don’t know what’s going,” Stark said, but Loki could feel power starting to coalesce and crackle as Thor lifted his hammer.

“Get. Back,” he said, and something in his voice or his eyes made Stark move. Loki realized too late what Thor intended to do.

“No,” he said, breathless and desperate, as Thor raised Mjolnir and brought it down with all his might.

The Mind Stone screamed, or perhaps it was Loki who did as his sense of it blazed incandescently bright, so bright it seared him even with his eyes closed. He heard glass shatter and dropped to his knees, agony spiking through his temples. He wondered briefly, distantly, if the witch felt it, power blazing up like an inferno. And a moment later, _so Thor is alive, then; that is good._

And then nothing.

* * *

Loki woke suddenly, as though he’d been slapped. There was a dull ache at the front of his skull but the rest of his body felt fine, so he opened his eyes, recognizing the feeling of a couch under his back. Steve was standing nearby, talking quietly with the witch. Her brother stood a little away, arms crossed. Loki tensed, and Steve must have caught it out of the corner of his eye because he turned, worry written on his face. “Loki?”

The witch looked unharmed, which Loki noted with annoyance. He sat up, remembering- “What happened,” he demanded. Steve strode over, reaching out to support him, checking himself, and simply pulling Loki to his feet.

“You tell me,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Loki said tersely, though his head throbbed as though scolding him for the lie. “And not with me, with Thor. What did he _do?_ ”

“What needed doing,” Thor said, and Loki turned sharply toward the doorway where Thor had appeared, but Thor was not looking at him.

“That tells me nothing,” Loki snapped, but the look Thor gave him made him want to flinch. “Where _were_ you,” he asked, because it was easier to ask questions than to be afraid, _do you have any idea-_

“I went to speak with the Norns,” Thor said. Loki’s breath caught in his chest, remembering that cold, overwhelming presence, their demand of a sacrifice. What had Thor given up, for knowledge? “I needed an explanation for my…vision.” He glanced briefly at Wanda, with the slightest nod of his head. Wanda blinked, seeming startled, and Loki’s stomach clenched. “And I found one. He needed to be awakened.”

For a dizzy moment Loki thought _Thanos,_ thought _no Thor you did not._ “Who did?” He asked, hearing the note in his own voice that Thor would recognize as fear, not able to drum it out.

“Me,” said an oddly familiar voice. Loki’s gaze snapped back to the doorway again, and he felt a surge of _wrong,_ that jangle against his nerves, mingled with the bittersweet flavor of what he now knew was the Mind Stone, though he could no longer hear its song. It was the body from the laboratory, but upright and moving, speaking, with the Mind Stone gleaming in the center of its forehead. Its strange gaze was fixed on Loki. “My apologies if my awakening caused you distress. It was not intentional.”

Loki realized why he recognized the voice a moment later. “Stark’s computer,” he said, sharply, but the…being…shook its head.

“I am not the same,” it said. “I am neither Ultron nor JARVIS. I am…something new.” It sounded almost curious, as though it was just realizing this now. Loki realized that it was wearing a yellow cape, very like Thor’s except in color, and felt cold.

“And you – trust this?” He directed the question mostly at Thor, though he included Steve in it as well. “First our enemies, and now this – creature-” He knew he was being rude. Could not care.

“Mjolnir deemed him worthy,” Thor said. His voice was flat. Loki fell still, something stabbing deep into the core of him and twisting. He flashed back to standing above the hammer, encased in rock, wrapping his hand around the haft and thinking _this time, maybe, this time-_

His mouth felt dry as he stared at Thor, but Thor’s eyes skated over him, his jaw set. Deliberately not meeting Loki’s gaze. In a flash, he realized that this was Thor _angry_ with him, and his stomach clenched because this was not Thor’s anger that he knew – the kind that flared fast and was gone. Thor should not be _cold._ Thor had never expressed his fury by shutting Loki out – he pushed and pressed until Loki gave in. “Well,” he managed to say finally. He could feel Steve looking at him, no doubt reading more than Loki wanted him to, and the witch, who knew too much about him already. “Well then.”

“Loki,” Steve said quietly, and Loki turned his back pointedly on them both. _Not now,_ he thought. _Please, Steve, do not push me now._ To his relief, Steve did not.

“Stark and Banner, Barton. Where are they?” He asked. Thor’s anger…about what? The fact that he had not mentioned the Infinity Stones? – he could deal with later. For now-

“I left Tony Stark moments ago,” said the synthetic being (did it have a name?). “I believe he was going to find Dr. Banner.”

“Clint’s listening for Natasha,” Steve said. Loki could feel his frown, feel his worry, and ignored both.

“Does he truly believe she lives?” He asked. He meant it to come out harsh, but somehow it did not.

“If Ultron wanted her dead,” Steve said, his voice too deliberately level for his calm to be genuine, “he would’ve killed her already and left her for us to find. Natasha’s still alive. When she’s ready, she’ll call us in.”

Loki felt a pang of something he would not call relief, but he simply shrugged. The old ache was back in his chest: the sting of _unworthiness,_ of the lack of _something_ that meant he was not good enough. He had managed, somewhat, to resign himself to Thor. But this new being, not even truly _living…_

He moved away, toward the windows. He heard Steve’s footfalls approaching but did not turn, letting Steve place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “You scared me,” he said quietly. “You acted like – something was exploding in your brain. And then you just dropped. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I am fine,” Loki said. “It was…unpleasant. But I do not think there will be any lasting effects.”

Steve exhaled in what sounded like relief, and bent his head, brushing Loki’s hair out of the way to press a kiss to the back of his neck. Loki let his eyes drift closed. “And…anything else?” Steve asked.

 _No,_ Loki almost said. _Nothing else._ But he had already opened his mouth. “Thor is angry with me.” The moment the words were out, it sounded pathetic. He made himself laugh. “A state of affairs I really ought to be used to.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

Loki shook his head hard. “Not now. And that is – that is part of what alarms me. When Thor is angry…he comes to me, shouting. He does not stand at a distance, silent.”

“He used to,” Steve said, his voice careful. “Maybe he’s changed. Maybe he’s holding back because he doesn’t want to yell at you. Or he wants to calm down first.”

“Maybe,” Loki said, but he did not feel convinced. Thor might as well have said _he is worthy, unlike you._ It rubbed against the place, still raw, where the burning need to satisfy Odin’s eternally unsatisfied expectations had once been. Steve’s hand slid up his back and rubbed his neck.

“It’ll be all right,” he said, quietly. Loki tried to summon a smile, but it felt weak.

“I got her!” Steve’s hand fell away and they both whirled around as Barton burst into the room, the relief naked on his face. “Natasha radioed me.” His face split into a grin. “She said she’s ready to be picked up. I’ve got the coordinates.”

“Here we go,” Stark said, sidling into the room on Barton’s heels. His voice sounded grim. Beside Loki, Steve squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Let’s go,” he said. Stark’s eyebrows twitched.

“What, no rousing speech?”

“No,” Steve said. Loki could hear something there, sense something crackle between them, a brief tension that was – new. “You all know what we’re up against. Let’s just – get this done. And everybody-” He paused, just for a moment. “-everybody come back alive.”

* * *

Loki had been in a number of battles with a number of opponents, ranging from raiding parties to, memorably, an army of Jotnar. He was no stranger to its chaos, and while he had never loved it in the way Thor did he had overcome his aversion to it long ago.

Still, this was different. Their enemy was seemingly endless, waves upon waves of metal creatures clawing their way out of the earth – and these people were not warriors, were children and old men and helpless, screaming humans utterly surprised by their world torn asunder.

 _As in your attack,_ a voice at the back of Loki’s mind whispered. _You heard them screaming then and part of you rejoiced in it, in their fear._

 _Not now,_ he thought. _Not now._

The witch – Loki saw her from a distance. Her teeth were gritted, hair flying wildly around her head, caught up in the currents of her magic destroying everything in its wake, ripping metal to shreds, eroding it to rust, and thought _perhaps I underestimated chaos magic._ Or underestimated her. If they had time after this-

If they had time. They did not have much. Loki heard the roar of the green beast somewhere across the city and did not let himself flinch. _Steve,_ he thought, fear humming in his bones, but when he had hesitated Steve had insisted _go, Loki, I need you to do this_ and he was too weak to refuse.

Loki’s knife tore through the metal where the brainstem of any flesh-and-blood being would be; it seemed to work just as well on machines. He flung it aside and dropped down to pry up the stone it had been clawing at, heaving it back. The young girl underneath shrieked and shrank back, raising one hand defensively, the other pulled to her chest.

“Come with me,” Loki said, because _you are safe_ was a lie. She did not move, staring at him. _Leave her,_ a pragmatic voice told him. _She is too frightened to move. Trying to coax her out will only waste time._

Loki dropped to a crouch, something in him needing – this. Something tangible. Some _one_ tangible. He extended a hand. “Come out. I will take you to safety.” Her eyes were owl-like, huge and dark, almost black. “Please,” he added.

“You’re him,” she said in Sokovian. Her voice shook. “The bad man from Germany. Loki.”

Loki jerked, in spite of himself. There was something there, yawning under his feet – but he could not let it have him. Of course he would be recognized. Of course- “I am not going to hurt you,” he said, as firmly as he could. “I swear it.” He heard his voice shake before he steadied it. “Please-“

He could hear more Ultrons coming. No time, no _time._ He felt his mouth spasm, something painful flashing through him, and simply moved. He picked up the girl, cast a shield around them both and ran, trying to ignore her screams, the way she beat at his chest with her one good arm, terror in her eyes. Had she known someone, he wondered, a mother, a grandmother, dead or injured in his _pointless_ display of power-

(Keep moving, keep moving.)

The ground lurched. The earth groaned, and Loki felt the city start to rise. Loki set the girl down, twisting space around her. A clearing in the woods, a half a mile from the city, and turned, breathing hard. _Please,_ he thought, with new, strange desperation. _Please don’t let this fail._

Fury arrived, helicarrier in tow. An escape route, for all those still trapped on what was now a rising island in the sky. Loki caught a glimpse of the being (calling himself the Vision, apparently), Thor’s red cape floating behind him, tossing Mjolnir in Thor’s direction and looked away.

Which was how he saw it even as the detonations began far below. Barton, looking over his shoulder on the edge of one of the shuttles. Leaping out, his eyes on a boy half trapped by shattered concrete. His hawkling reached the boy and scooped him up, but then his arms were full and there were two of Ultron’s offspring approaching. Barton turned, shoulders hunching, body a shelter.

And the witch’s brother, Pietro, running fast enough to be a blur, grabbing a car but placing it would only expose his back to the guns clicking into position-

Loki reached out, drawing on his depleted magic, and threw up a wall, even as he wove a fire working that detonated within them, tearing their metal bodies apart.

Barton stood slowly, eyes catching the car and then Pietro. Whose eyes were scanning elsewhere. Loki shrank back, catching himself on one of the buildings as blood rushed to his head, dropping the shield.

 _Steve,_ he thought. _Where is Steve,_ and reached out for him, weaving himself through space to his side. Steve spun around, shield raised, only to drop when he saw Loki. He looked dirty and his uniform was torn, some blood visible but not too much. “Loki,” he said, panting. “The helicarrier-“

“Everyone is on board,” Loki heard himself say. As if from a great distance. “You need to go. I can feel it starting. This rock is going to break apart.”

Steve gave him an odd look. “You mean _we_ need to go,” he said, and for a wild, dizzy moment Loki thought _no,_ realized that he had been thinking _no_ since the girl had named him (and there must have been others, who simply did not speak). Had been thinking, in some small part of his brain, _someone needs to be certain Ultron is gone. Let me. One monster ending another, and both destroyed, and I will never have to face the howling fear that Thanos will come for me, or the yawning despair of all that I’ve done. I can finish…good. (Worthy.)_

 _Let me go,_ he almost said, but he looked at Steve’s face and saw written there the pain that told him Steve knew what he was thinking, or near enough. The fear and the hurt and he had promised, hadn’t he, that he would not do that to Steve.

“Yes,” he said. “We. We need to go.” He felt a ripple go through the earth under his feet, like the shudder of a horse. “Now. Thor-”

Steve’s shoulders slumped in painfully obvious relief. “We’ll make sure he gets out,” Steve said. “Remember, he can fly. And the others, Natasha, Clint, Bruce…”

“The Widow and Banner…” Loki shrugged. “Barton is safe. I can still feel the witch’s magic, so I presume she is not dead either.” Another of those ripples. “Steve – either they are safe or they are not. We do not have much longer.”

“All right,” Steve said, taking a deep breath. “All right.”

Loki did not just grab Steve. He wrapped his arms around him instead, closing his eyes as he transported them both to the ground. Steve looked up, hand shading his eyes, and Loki looked up with him.

Loki felt it explode in his chest and flung up a shield as chunks of rock began to rain down, and some part of him thought _it is almost beautiful, you know. Such total destruction._

“It’s over,” Steve said, but he didn’t sound awed, or even relieved. Just tired. He turned his face and pressed it into Loki’s shoulder.

* * *

They had all survived. They did not all come back – at least not wholly. Banner came back but would meet no one’s eyes and explained in a barely audible voice that he was _taking some time off._ Stark also claimed he _needed to take a step back_. The Vision had disappeared, which seemed to worry no one other than Loki.

Loki was there for none of these announcements, of course: it was for the Avengers, and that he was not.

And then there was Thor.

Thor avoided him after the battle when Loki sought him out, and continued to avoid him for nearly a week after, until something began to gnaw at his stomach, whispering that he had been a fool to think Thor loved him at all, to think Thor could _forgive_ him, and perhaps all the Norns had done was remind his brother of his senses.

Loki was beginning to feel the faintest flutters of panic simmering toward anger when Thor knocked on the door of his and Steve’s apartment. Loki answered the door and Thor looked at him, not smiling but meeting his gaze.

“May I come in?” He asked. Loki felt Steve at his back and took a deep breath, stepping back with a grand gesture to cover his nervousness.

“By all means,” he said, summoning up a smile he knew Thor would see as false. Knowing he was baiting his brother and preferring Thor baited and angry than this strange…silence. (Such irony, he thought, considering he had once punished Thor with the same.)

Thor stepped inside. “Thor,” Steve said, his voice friendly but careful. Loki had brushed aside his concerns, but Steve was not blind. “Do you want anything?”

“If I may be blunt,” Thor said, “I would speak with Loki, alone.”

Loki could feel Steve looking at him. His mouth felt dry, but he let his chin drop in a slight nod. “All right,” Steve said slowly. “Is just down the hall fine, or would you rather I went for a walk?”

“Down the hall is perfectly acceptable.” Thor paused, and then smiled at Steve, and reached out to clasp his shoulder. “It _is_ good to see you. And I am sorry we cannot simply speak as friends today. But there are…matters…that need to be dealt with.”

A shiver ran down Loki’s spine and he felt sick. Steve hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Loki. “Steve,” he said, voice little more than a croak. “It is all right. Go.” Thor was not wearing Mjolnir, a part of Loki noted with absurd relief, even as another noted that if Thor had come to punish him he would not need the hammer to do so.

Steve leaned in and kissed Loki’s cheek, lightly, hand resting on his shoulder for a moment before he turned and retreated down the hall into the bedroom. Thor waited until the door closed, and then spoke, before Loki could.

“I am sorry,” he said, which made Loki blink. “I have been…keeping my distance while I attempted to…calm myself. I do not want to fight with you.”

Loki licked his lips. “That is a comforting start,” he said, but his forced lightness sounded weak even to him. Thor winced, though his expression remained solemn.

“My vision…someone is manipulating us, Loki. Three Infinity Stones appearing in such a short time? After they were thought lost for years?” His eyes were fixed on Loki, so intense Loki felt the urge to shrink back. He had thought his mouth dry before but now it was hard to swallow.

“What are you asking me,” he said, thickly.

“You knew,” Thor said, his voice pitched low. Loki hesitated, unable to meet his brother’s eyes.

“Knew?” He hedged. Thor’s expression darkened.

“About the Infinity Stones. The Aether, the scepter, the Tesseract…did you know that the Power Stone had appeared as well?” His voice did not quite accuse, but Loki flinched nonetheless. “And yet you said nothing.”

“I suspected,” Loki said after a moment. His voice sounded small. “But I was not certain of anything.”

“I asked you before,” Thor said, “who commanded your attack. You never answered. I ask you again now – who was it who gave you the scepter? Who gave you the Chitauri to command?”

Loki swallowed hard, nearly twisting under Thor’s hard stare. “I do not – wish to speak his name.”

Thor’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

Loki felt his shoulders hunch. “It is possible – it may draw his attention. I do not wish…none of us wish that.”

“We need to know, Loki,” Thor said, his voice stern. “Whoever this is – he has been playing us. Moving us like pieces on a board. And the Infinity Stones-”

“He wishes to gather them,” Loki burst out. “To collect them. For his usage.”

Thor’s eyebrows shot up in plain alarm. “Usage?”

“Yes,” Loki said. The words that had started as reluctant began to spill out of him. “The Infinity Gauntlet. I do not know if – there is one in the Allfather’s vault. There may be another, I do not know – he only requires one. Joined with the Stones it would grant him – unimaginable power.”

“Power to do what?” Thor asked, his frown deepening even further, furrows dug deep into his brow. Loki laughed, shaky and a little shrill.

“To destroy,” he said, feeling himself smile. “Death – is all he wants. Souls to offer to his Lady. A universe to reap, and worthy foes to defeat.” He could feel himself shaking and squeezed his eyes closed.

“Loki,” Thor said, his voice very close by. “Why did you say nothing before? Why didn’t you _warn-_ ”

“At first it did not matter. I did not want you to – and then I did not think you would listen. And then-“ His laugh felt half mad. “Foolish hope. That – without the Tesseract, without _my_ help, he would not be able to reach the Nine. That we – _I_ would be safe. But I am not, we are not, no one is-“

“Loki.” Thor’s voice was firm, but it was his hands, pressing down on Loki’s shoulders, that both steadied him and made him realize how hard he was shaking and how he could not make himself stop. He inhaled, but it felt like it did not fully fill his lungs. “Look at me.” Loki forced his eyes to raise, to meet Thor’s steady gaze, worried but still as intense as the storm. “Tell me who ‘he’ is.”

“The Mad Titan,” Loki said. His voice cracked. “Do you – do you remember? The Infinity Wars were fought against him and he was cast out into the dark – but not killed. He lived and he rebuilt his strength and now he reaches out again-”

Thor’s fingers pressed into his shoulders and shook him, lightly. “ _Loki,_ ” he said again. “A name. I need a name.”

Loki sucked in a breath and it seemed to rattle in his chest. “He will hear,” he said, his voice shaking, his body shaking. “He will _know_ and he will come for me, and for all of you, he will kill you and Steve and make me watch-”

“His _name,_ ” Thor interrupted, his voice booming, and Loki closed his eyes and spoke it, terror vibrating in his bones.

“Thanos,” he said. “His name is Thanos,” and closed his eyes, half expecting the blow to fall.

Instead, Thor’s hands fell away, slowly. Loki swayed before he managed to catch himself. “Thanos,” he said, and Loki could hear his frown. “It sounds familiar…dimly.”

“The Allfather’s grandfather fought him,” Loki said. His voice sounded small. “He nearly destroyed the realms then.”

“How do you know this?” Thor asked. Loki shuddered, wanting to curl into himself, to _hide._

“He told me.” He swallowed hard and groped for something to brace himself against. “We – spoke. When I was – with him.”

Thor’s expression darkened. “When you were his prisoner.”

Loki’s laugh was a broken, stuttering thing. “Oh no. I was no prisoner. He – _saved_ me, you see. Plucked me from the Void and gave me purpose and power-” His voice broke off. His chest hurt. “He did not hurt me. He would not – lower himself to dirty his hands with something like me.” _Stop,_ his brain screamed at him. _Stop speaking, stop humiliating yourself-_ “That was for others, and when he came it was to speak reasonably, to offer shallow kindness but I was too _weak_ to resist-”

He managed to stop, at last, panting. Thor was looking at him with an expression in his eyes that Loki did not want to interpret – sorrow and anger and pity tangled together. Loki looked away, sinking his teeth into the inside of his cheek and hoping the pain would ground him.

“You never told me,” Thor said quietly.

Loki squeezed his eyes closed. “I did not want to. I did not want you to know, to pity me. I did not want to-” Remember. Speak it, for speaking it made it more real. He pressed his lips together. Thor’s hand brushed his shoulder and Loki twitched.

“You should have said,” Thor said. He sounded wounded, upset. “If I had known-”

“What would you have done differently?” Loki asked wearily. “What _could_ you have done differently?” He did not feel cleaner, having spoken; felt no release or relief. “If you had known when I was serving him, it would have changed nothing, and after changed even less.”

“But you were…hurt.”

Loki smiled vaguely. “I have been hurt many times, Thor. What is one more? The important thing is that now – the Titan is moving. Him, perhaps, I should have mentioned. The rest is…immaterial.”

Thor shook his head, but he did not argue. “Does Steve know?” He asked, after a moment. “Have you ever spoken to him of…”

“No,” Loki said, and his voice sounded harsh. “Nor will you. I do not need – it is not important.”

“It is,” Thor said. His hand moved to cup the back of Loki’s neck, thumb rubbing the side. “Not only because we must be prepared, but because – you should know by now that you do not have to bear your suffering alone.”

“There is no preparing,” Loki said. His voice sounded small, almost childish. “I told you. He is too powerful. He will shatter your defenses and then you. We may already be lost.”

“No,” Thor said, his eyes blazing. “We are not. You know better than that, brother. You, and myself, and the Avengers – we are a mighty force to be reckoned with. We will fight, and we will win.” His hand squeezed and he pulled Loki close enough that their foreheads could rest together. “And you will have your vengeance on this Mad Titan for what he did to you.”

“Thor,” Loki said, his voice strangled, but his voice died. He wanted to believe it. Wanted to be able to see Thor crushing Thanos’s skull with his hammer, Steve smashing his shield into his monstrous face, bringing him crashing to the ground – but all he could picture was their broken bodies at his feet. He could almost feel the scepter in his hands, the feeling as it pierced Steve’s heart from his vision, Thanos’s voice echoing in his mind with praise that made him feel giddy with relief.

 _We are going to lose,_ he thought, and closed his eyes, shaking silently as Thor held him close. _We are going to lose, and I will beg for death before the end._

* * *

Thor was…kind. He guided Loki to his couch and made him a pot of hot tea that Loki cradled in his hands without drinking, feeling simultaneously numb and terrified. Thor paced back and forth, but Loki could feel himself being watched.

“I will need to go back to Asgard,” Thor said at length. “To investigate this, and see what can be done.” Loki nodded, very slightly, and inhaled the steam rising from his tea.

Thor went to call Steve out from his room, and they stood in the living room together, both of them glancing periodically in Loki’s direction. Loki did not try to overhear their conversation, held in low tones.

“We will speak further soon, Loki,” Thor said, and if Loki appreciated how he tried for gentleness there was no masking the gravity in his tone. Loki closed his eyes and held very still as Steve drew close and sat down beside him.

“Are you all right?” He asked. Loki shuddered.

“No,” he said. “Never.” A part of him wanted to cry, but he could not make himself crack that much. He heard Steve sigh and he threaded his fingers into Loki’s hair, combing through the strands.

“Oh, Loki,” he said softly. “I wish you would have told me.”

“Told you what,” Loki said dully. “About the Infinity Stones? The Gauntlet?” He closed his eyes. “You are right. I should have.”

“Well – that too,” Steve said. “But I meant….”

Loki squeezed his eyes closed. “Not now,” he said. His voice vibrated on the edge of breaking. “I cannot. Right now.” Steve sighed again, but he didn’t press. Let Loki lean into his shoulder.

“I’ve been working on getting the twins settled,” he said, after a moment of quiet. “They’re still a little…but I think they’ll be all right. Sam’s helping. James is still keeping his distance, but I think that might change. And the Vision’s come back from wherever he went, too…”

Whatever Mjolnir claimed, Loki thought, that creature made his skin crawl. And the twins, the witch and her brother… _she_ made his skin crawl, and he resented it. That a chaos mage – even a _powerful_ chaos mage - should be able to wreak such havoc upon him was…insulting. He held his tongue, though, and simply nodded. It was good, to have a distraction.

“Things are going to change,” Steve said quietly. “Not that they ever stay the same, but…”

 _They are already changing,_ Loki thought. _I can feel it._

“It looks like the team is shuffling around a little,” Steve said. “New Avengers, I guess.” He hesitated. “If you…wanted to be a part of it. Not even necessarily in the field, even if it was just – helping train. Wanda expressed some interest in learning more about her magic, and…” He trailed off. Loki felt numb.

“You want to make me an Avenger,” he said, but the irony he intended came out dull.

“Only if you want it,” Steve said. “But you…you did good. In Sokovia. And we’ll need your help against this-”

“Don’t say his name,” Loki said, stiffening. “ _Don’t –_ just call him the Mad Titan, if you must refer to him at all.”

Steve was silent for a moment, but then he said simply, “we’ll need your help against him.”

Loki laughed harshly. “I will be little use. Even the _memories_ reduce me to – you saw. I am too _weak-_ “

“Don’t,” Steve said, and his voice had its own harshness. “ _Don’t_ call yourself weak. It’s not true. It’s never been true. I know you, Loki. I know how hard you can fight, _do_ fight, all the time.”

Loki wanted to curl into himself. He closed his eyes, instead, because he did not want to pull away from Steve. “You have such faith in me.”

“I do because you’ve earned it,” Steve said, voice firm, inarguable. Loki swallowed.

_I want to deserve that. I do._

“I shall think about it,” he said at length. “The Avengers, that is. I will…consider it.”

Steve breathed out in what sounded like relief. “All right,” he said. “That’s all I was asking. I just…wanted you to know the offer was on the table.”

“Barton approves?” Loki said, mostly out of sarcasm.

“He didn’t _dis_ approve,” Steve said. Loki felt a jolt of surprise.

“And Thor?” He mumbled.

“Thor would’ve suggested it if I hadn’t.” Steve paused. “He wasn’t angry with _you,_ Loki. Or – well, he was, but not really. Mostly I think he was angry at himself for not seeing it before.” Loki felt a little spike of something bitter, not quite sorrow.

“I would have told them,” he said. “If they’d _asked._ If I had believed that any of them cared. If it had been a question rather than an interrogation.” He twitched. “If – _he_ comes here, that will be my fault. I drew his attention here. I marked you as a worthy challenge. I-”

“Loki,” Steve said, quiet but firm. “If Th- the Mad Titan tries to destroy the planet – that’s on him. Not you.”

Something in Loki crumbled and he took a shuddering breath. “I love you,” he said, because he needed to say it. Steve turned his head and kissed Loki’s temple, softly, with so much tenderness.

“I love you too.”

* * *

Half asleep, he drifted, thoughts moving like waves on the shores of his mind, leaving little imprint behind.

_Ah, there you are._

Between one breath and the next, he was not alone. It was the feeling, he imagined, like a fish might have, suddenly aware of the net a whisper away from its gills. He froze, and tried to wake.

_I have wondered where you were hiding. There is an unpaid debt between us._

Loki felt himself pinioned, like a bug in a case.

_It was foolish, to play with such fragile pawns. I think it is time I joined the game properly. And after, when I find you, when there are no boltholes left…_

Loki’s heart, beating rabbit hard, suddenly stopped. _When I find you,_ he thought, and felt the net sweep by him in the water. Not _now that I know where you are._ Thanos knew he lived, but had not found him yet. Thanos was reaching out for the realms but had not yet broken through. There was still _time._

Loki woke with a jerk, panting and drenched with sweat. He cast a spell to give himself light and sat up, fighting to slow his breathing. _It isn’t over yet,_ he told himself, with fervent desperation. _It isn’t over._ Thanos’s voice – may not even have been real, only in his head, a product of lingering fear and Thor’s dredging up of old memories.

 _Things are going to change,_ Steve had said. Loki could feel them changing already. Feel the weather turning.

_(There is still time.)_

Not much, but it would have to be enough.

If not for him, then at least for Thor, and Steve, and Frigga. For Sam and James. Maybe even for Barton and Romanova and the rest.

It might be the beginning of the end, but it need not be the end for them all.

Loki would not let it be.


End file.
